


Drarry One Shots

by DelightfullyDrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:48:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 40,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfullyDrarry/pseuds/DelightfullyDrarry
Summary: Sometimes I write gay ones shots.





	1. Leather

Harry barely recognized Draco when he had stepped foot back into Hogwarts for his eighth year. The blond’s hair was disheveled and he held a cigarette between nimble fingers, black leather hugging his slim frame. “Draco?” He calls and the silver eyed boy debates on ignoring Harry but goes against it, taking a long drag off his cigarette and turns to face him. 

“What do you want, Potter?” He asks, flicking ash off the end of his fag.

“I just… I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” The brunet admits and Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh I’m wonderful, Potter. Splendid. Couldn’t be better, really,” Sarcasm drips through Draco’s tone between puffs of smoke. “Is that all you wanted? To stick your nose in my business yet again?” He drops the tail of the cigarette, putting it out with the steel toe of his shoe. The blond then moves past Harry, disinterested and walks through the entrance doors of Hogwarts, luggage bag trailing behind him. Harry couldn’t believe how much he had changed.

“You caught a look at Malfoy yet?” Ron asks, both he and Hermione having wandered into Harry’s dorm room once he had found one.

“Yeah,” Harry replies. “I’m a bit worried about him,” He admits. “Nobody should change so quickly in the span of 9 months,”

“The war changed him. It changed all of us,” Hermione says, frowning.

“He’s just… a totally different person now,”

“It’s not really our business anymore, Harry. He saved your life, you saved his, that’s it, end of story.” The brunette continues, propping her hand over Harry’s. 

“I know but–”

“You can’t save everyone, mate,” Ron cuts him off.

Harry nods, sighing. “I guess so. C'mon, dinner’s about to start,” He says, dismissing the subject and leaves his room, friends following behind.

Without even realizing it, the green eyed boy was scanning the room for Draco and soon finds him sitting at the Slytherin table with Pansy and Blaise. His two companions looked nearly identical to before the war and they seemed unfazed by Draco’s transformation. If anything, they seemed pleased by it. “I think it suits you,” He hears Pansy say as he passes their table and he can’t help but agree. Although the look was different, Draco pulled it off but hell, that boy pulled off anything with his striking figures.

The Chosen One takes a seat beside his friends and loads his plate full of food. He was avoiding the savory foods, gravitating toward the sweets instead; sweet potatoes with marshmallows, pumpkin pasties and many others. Harry without a doubt missed the feasts here at Hogwarts.

Soon enough all the students are herded back to their rooms. As much as Harry tried, he was unable to sleep. It was colder here in these living quarters just under the owlery, Headmistress McGonagall not having any other option to put the eighth years and even under a mountain of blankets he wasn’t able to warm up. After a few moments of thought, the brunet leaves his room and heads to the common room to warm up by the fireplace. When he does get there, however, he finds Draco curled up in front of it first, blanket draped over his shoulders.

When the blond looks back and sees the brunet he rolls his eyes. “Merlin, I can never get away from you, can I Potter?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Malfoy. I had no intention on finding you here. It’s just so bloody freezing I wanted to warm up,”

Although Draco tried hiding it, a hint of a smile plays on his lips. “I suppose it is a bit cold, aye?”

“You could say that,” Harry says and laughs despite himself.

Draco sees how Harry had idled several feet behind him, nowhere close enough to the fire to keep warm so he rolls his eyes, getting up and grabbing the tanner boy by the bicep, pulling him closer to the radiating heat. Harry flushes red, surprised at the contact but says nothing as he rubs his chilled hands together and places them in front of the fireplace. “It’s odd,” Draco starts, staring into the flames. “Down in the Slytherin dungeons the fire was always green to match our colours so seeing orange flames is so different,”

“Not much here is different from the Gryffindor quarters,” Harry admits. “There’s a few changes though which I like. Mostly having a room to myself,”

“What, so you can wank in peace?” Draco teases with a light smirk.

Harry flushes red again, not meeting the Slytherin’s gaze. “What? N-No,” He stammers.

“Right,” Draco snorts. “You’re saying you haven’t wanked at least once with someone else in the room?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No!” Harry exclaims, staring down at the floor. “Have you?” He questions, voice quiet and intimidated.

“I’ve done much more than wank, Potter. Slytherin and Gryffindor quarters seem worlds apart,” Draco chuckles.

“Apparently,” Harry breathes, flabbergasted.

“Don’t look so surprised,” The blond says, amused at Potter’s reaction. Harry can’t help but look Draco over much as he had when he had first arrived at Hogwarts. He had swapped his leather jacket and jeans for a baggy tee shirt and pajama bottoms, hair messy, skin holding a golden glow against the fire. “Done checking me out, Potter?”

Harry is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of Draco’s deep voice which was, as always velvety and even. “What?” He murmurs, blushing.

“You’re not very subtle. You never have been.”

“I– I wasn’t checking you out,” The brunet denies.

“Sure,” Draco snorts, not believing him for a moment.

“I wasn’t!”

Before Harry could defend himself further, Draco is straddling him, faces inches apart from the wizarding saviour. Harry no longer felt cold; he was now blazing hot. He could feel Draco’s warmth against his flushed skin, feel his heated breath on his lips. “I know you’re attracted to me, Harry. There’s no need to hide it,“

The mere sound of Harry’s name rolling off Draco’s tongue causes a shiver to run down his spine which only encourages Draco. “M-Malfoy,” Harry stammers.

“What is it, Potter? If you truly don’t want me, all you need to do is say it,” Draco murmurs into the shell of his ear.

“I-I–” He begins but is cut short when a small whimper leaves his mouth instead, Draco grinding down on his lap. “W-What’re you playing at?” He murmurs.

“Oh nothing, Potter. I just wanted to test a theory,” Draco breathes against his neck, peppering soft kisses there.

“A-And what was that?” Harry asks, electricity flooding his veins each time Draco’s lips met his sensitive skin.

“That you were undoubtedly attracted to me,” He chuckles before getting up from Harry’s lap with a smirk and heads back to his room.


	2. Ill

“Honestly Potter, the least you could do is cover your bloody mouth,” Draco cringes, taking a step back from the sickly brunet. 

“Draco,” Harry coughs, this time into his sleeve. “We’ve been dating for two years now. You don’t need to call me by my last name anymore,” He laughs but it comes out strangled when another coughing fit begins. 

“I just don’t see why we can’t just go to St. Mungo’s. They’ve got all the potions in the world to help you and yet you refuse to go to the infirmary. Quit being a stubborn git and go take something already,” Draco huffs.

“Muggles stick it out like this until they get better so why can’t I?” Harry questions and Draco rolls his eyes. 

“Because you’re not a muggle, Harry,” He mutters, frustrated yet holds out another box of tissues for his boyfriend to take. 

The brunet smiles softly before pulling the blankets up to his chin. “Can you just cuddle me please? I think that’ll make me feel better,” His voice is soft, whiny and childish but it causes Draco to sigh and near closer to the bed nonetheless. 

“My presence isn’t going to cure you, Harry. I’m great company and lovely to look at but I can’t cure an illness. That is unless you actually let me take you to the hospital so you get better,” 

“Not gonna happen,” Harry replies stubbornly. 

Draco groans, pulling out his wand and casting a heating spell on the blankets to warm them. He knew that Harry loved that. “Fine,” He grumbles. “Just... don’t cough on me or I swear--” 

“Okay I won’t,” Harry grins and his boyfriend hesitantly nears closer to him, coming under the blankets as well.

“And if you get me sick--” 

“Then I’ll take you to St. Mungo’s,” The brunet promises and Draco mutters something incoherent under his breath before wrapping his arms around Harry’s frame. He was broader than Draco, muscles more defined but the blond seemed to cradle him just fine. Harry buries his face into the crook of Draco’s neck, the silver eyed boy taking note of his burning skin with a frown. “Mm, missed this,” Harry hums into the delicate flesh. 

“Me too,” Draco admits. Both boys had been terribly busy; Draco with his job as Potions teacher at Hogwarts, drowning in schoolwork and Harry as an Auror, always out injuring himself, stuck in St. Mungo’s more often than he’d like so maybe Draco understood why he wouldn’t want to go over something this small.

Harry’s harsh coughing brings Draco from his thoughts and he frowns at the sound of it. He doesn’t say anything else, however, only cards his fingers through Harry’s hair in the way he knew his boyfriend loved. “I feel like shit, Dray,” The sickly boy whispers and Draco kisses Harry’s burning forehead softly. 

“I know, my love, but you’ll feel better soon,” The two boys lay in bed for a while, Harry simply nestled into Draco’s side for hours. 

It didn’t take long for the green eyed boy to fall asleep; it was what he had been doing for the majority of the day anyway yet Draco is wide awake. He was off work yet had to go back tomorrow and still had dozens of tests to grade so he takes his wand back out and points it at his work bag and mutters, “Wingardium Leviosa,” quietly until the bag hits the floor beside the bed. Draco works on grading papers for no more than forty-five minutes before Harry stirs, bumping his arm as he coughs harshly causing Draco’s quill to slip and slide across one of his students’ tests. “Damn it, Harry,” He hisses, frustrated, running his free hand through his hair. 

“Sorry,” The brunet says sheepishly once he realized what he had done.

The blond only groans, scribbling down the final grade to their paper before setting down the stack he had left to go. “It’s... fine,” He mutters. “I’m going to have Kreacher make you soup or something because Merlin knows I’d ruin it somehow. I’ll be back,” Draco says, kissing Harry on the lips quickly, earning a smile from the sick boy. 

Harry hears Draco make the order toward the house elf and Kreacher groans, clearly not wanting to forfill the task but does so anyway. The blond is gone a few moments more before he comes back into the room holding a wet wash cloth and presses it to Harry’s forehead. “You’re burning up. My mum used to do this for me all the time when I was sick and Father wouldn’t let us leave the house to go to the hospital,” 

Talking about his father didn’t bother Draco much anymore. There were still times when he would get uncomfortable when topics of the war and his family was mentioned then but not nearly as often as he had years ago.

Harry moans softly once Draco had placed the cloth on his forehead, pleased at the feeling and Draco smiles softly. “You’ll feel better soon, my prince,” Draco says much as he had earlier. 

The brunet hums softly before mumbling, “’M sorry I made you screw up your schoolwork,” 

Draco shakes his head quickly, squeezing one of Harry’s clammy hands. “It’s fine, sweetheart, I promise,” He replies, kissing the tip of Harry’s nose. 

“You’re so sweet to me,” Harry whispers and Draco chuckles with a grin. 

“I’m your dreamy boyfriend. Isn’t that what I’m here for?” He retorts which causes causes Harry to laugh softly. 

“I wouldn’t call you dreamy exactly,” The green eyed boy said and Draco raises an eyebrow. 

“What then? Lovely? Handsome? Sexy? The best you’ll ever have?” The blond lists with a cocky grin and Harry only rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, those do seem to fit the bill,” He grins, sitting up and leaning in for another kiss. “I love you, Draco,” Harry continues softly, running a hand through his lover’s hair. 

“I love you too, Harry,” Draco replies before his eyes widen and he jerks away from his boyfriend. “You... You kissed me! I’m-- I’m going to get sick now! Damn it, Potter!” He scowls and Harry only laughs. 

“You kissed me before you got up, Draco. I doubt it matters,” 

Draco pouts then, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed. “Fine, but if I get sick...” 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll take you to the hospital and you’ll be all better,” Harry cuts in with a small smirk and Draco groans, falling back against the pillows. 

“I hate you,” He mutters. 

“No you don’t,” Harry replies and Draco goes silent for a moment before saying, “I hate when you’re right,” 

***

Two days later, Draco had a runny nose and a sore throat. “Bloody hell,” He mutters, irritated. “Harry!” He whines from his shared bed, calling for his boyfriend who was nowhere to be found. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” Harry asked. He had felt better the day before and now it was Draco’s turn to play the victim. 

“You... You got me sick,” He whimpers, grabbing the box of tissues at his bedside to wipe his nose. “I hate you,”

“You don’t hate me,” Harry chuckles, walking over to his boyfriend.

“But this is all your fault. You and your bloody Auror jobs.” Draco pouts, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Do you want me to take you to St. Mungo’s before I go into work?” Harry asks and Draco shakes his head. 

“No, I want you to stay home and take care of me like I did for you,” The blond replies and after a moment’s thought, Harry sighs. 

“Alright, I just have to owl everyone and tell them I can’t go in today. You’re lucky I’m doing this, Dray,” 

“Lucky,” Draco scoffs under his breath before coughing loudly and wincing. He watches as Harry takes off his coat and shoes and motions for the brunet to come back to him. Once Harry does, Draco curls into his arms, having fit perfectly and mumbles, “’M gonna go to bed. Can you owl work for me and tell them I’m ill?” 

Harry hums, kissing Draco’s burning forehead before saying, “Of course. Now get some sleep, love. You need it,” 

“Yeah, whatever Potter. I’ll get you for this. No kisses for a week or... something,” His threat is weak and causes Harry to laugh and he kisses Draco on the lips just to spite him. 

“Alright sweetheart. Now get to bed,” He repeats and after heaving a miserable sigh, Draco nods and is out within minutes.


	3. French!Draco

“The train station is where?” Draco asks hesitantly, accent thick with anxiety.

He hears laughter as soon as he speaks and the blond instantly regrets asking the older redheaded woman the question. “Oh just this way, dear. That’s a lovely accent you have. Where are you from?”

“I am of France,” Draco says quietly. “My family and I travel because Hogwarts is said to be best in all of Europe. My family, they could not come with me today. They had to be elsewhere and I ah, I was lost so thank you Madame…” He trails off, not knowing the woman’s name.

“Molly Weasley,” The woman smiles and Draco mirrors the action. “Now just this way, dear,” Molly continues and soon, she, her children and Draco appear in front of a brick wall.

“We go through brick wall, Madame?” The blond asks, confused. “I… I do not get,” He mumbles, blushing.

“Watch my children and do as they do,” Molly instructs and Draco nods yet is still confused. He watches as two red haired twins run toward the brick wall and he’s about to shut his eyes in fear of their injury until he realizes they had simply gone through the hard brick.

“Uncroyable,” The silver eyed boy whispers in awe and Mrs. Weasley only smiles at the shocked boy.

“On you go now, dear,” Molly says once her children had made it safely onto the platform.

“I will end up where?” Draco asks, still unsure.

“The platform to get to Hogwarts,” Mrs. Weasley explains. “Would you like me to do it with you?” She asks once Draco hadn’t moved an inch.

“Oh please yes. That would be much incredible,” Draco replies and Molly smiles, the blond winning her over with his broken English. She takes his hand and then the two are off on a light jog until they make it to the platform. “C'était fantastique!” Draco exclaims, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“It’s time for you to board the train, sweetie. My kids will show you the way,” Molly promises. She then turns toward her children and says, “You all better be nice to this boy. He has no clue what he’s doing so you best all make him feel welcome,”

Ginny nods, her brothers not having paid attention and says, “I’ll look after him, Mum, don’t worry. I love you,” before being pulled into a tight hug.

Once the redhead pulls from her mother’s grip, she turns toward Draco with a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Ginny,” She greets him and puts her hand out for him to shake. Draco eyes it with confusion, not familiar with the gesture so she simply puts her hand back down. “What’s your name?” She asks instead.

“Draco,” He says after a moment’s thought.

“Well Draco, we need to board the train now so follow me,”

Ginny takes ahold of Draco’s free hand and once they begin to walk away, Draco stops and turns toward Molly. “Je vous remercie, Madame Weasley. You be a very good woman,” Draco thanks her and Mrs. Weasley smiles, waving at the duo.

Ginny shows Draco the ways of the train and the two sit in a compartment together, waiting for Ron, Harry and Hermione to show up. “So Draco, how long have you been in the UK?” The younger girl asks.

“I have been six days,” Draco replies, fiddling with his fingers. “Not many have been as nice as you, Ginny,”

Before Ginny can reply, the compartment door is swung open and the Golden Trio walks inside. “Who’s this?” Hermione asks, motioning toward Draco.

“His name’s Draco,” Ginny pipes up as the brunette smiles in Draco’s direction.

“It’s nice to meet you, Draco. I’m Hermione,”

“It is pleasure to meet you, Hermione,” Draco says with kind eyes.

“Your accent doesn’t sound familiar. Where are you from?”

“I am of France,” Draco murmurs. “My English is no good, I apologize,” He continues, blushing.

“It’s not a problem,” Hermione promises before looking over at Harry and Ron. “If you met Ginny I’m sure you’ve met Ron as well but this is Harry,” She says, pointing to the black haired boy.

Draco flushes red at the sight of Harry and mumbles, “Il est très beau,” under his breath.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says although he hadn’t understood a lick of his French.

“It is nice meeting you too,” Draco replies. “It takes how long to Hogwarts?” He asks after a few moments of silence.

“Not long,” Hermione reassures him. “Maybe fifty minutes or so,”

Draco nods yet is already jittery in his seat. His eyebrows knit with confusion when a woman comes walking down the train walkway with a steel trolley. “That is… what?”

“That’s the sweets trolley,” Harry explains. “Here, I’ll buy you something. The Chocolate Frogs are insane,”

“Oh no,” Draco objects. “You need not waste on me,”

Harry smiles sweetly in Draco’s direction and waves his words away. “It’s no problem, Draco, really,” He promises. “Besides, getting a Chocolate Frog on your first ride to Hogwarts is tradition,” 

Draco nods hesitantly, eyebrows still furrowed, wishing Harry wouldn’t spend his money on him yet knows he won’t be able to convince him otherwise. The brunet leaves the compartment for a moment to pay for the sweets and when he returns, he hands Draco one of the containers and the blond smiles gratefully, thanking him before opening the box and flinching when the chocolate hops around. “What the...” He mutters, eyes widening at the sight of it. 

“You don’t sell those in France?” Ginny asks as she takes in his confusion and Draco shakes his head. 

Hermione urges him to eat the chocolate and Draco does, still at a complete loss yet moans softly at the smooth taste. “Oh my,” He murmurs. “This is... very amazing,” 

Ginny and Hermione giggle, won over by Draco’s little known English and the blond simply smiles at the girls, knowing they’d all get along just fine.

***

“Harry,” Draco murmurs, voice laced with frustration.

“Yes, Draco?”

“I can not pronounce the ah, the passcode for the moving lady in the picture to get to Slytherin commons,” The blond blushes, embarrassed. 

Harry looks up from his book, the two the only ones idling by the library work tables. “The portrait is giving you a hard time?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows and Draco nods. 

“I am so embarrassed,” He mumbles. “She said my accent is too fat. Mais pour l'amour de tout ce qui est saint, I just want sleep,” Draco runs a hand through his hair with a deep sigh, groaning and misses how a shiver ran down Harry’s spine. He wouldn’t admit it to Draco but he loved how the blond would slip French back into his English commentary. 

“I don’t think your accent is too heavy,” Harry frowns. “Maybe you should just tell me your password and I could get you into your common room,” He suggests yet watches as Draco shakes his head. 

“I was told I am not to do that,” The blond sighs and Harry hums under his breath, thinking. 

“Well, lets go get a Butter Beer and think over a solution,” He suggests and although Draco isn’t familiar with the drink, nods along anyway. 

“What is this... Beer Butter?” Draco asks on their way to Three Broomsticks. 

“Butter Beer,” Harry corrects gently with an adoring smile. “It’s one of my favorite drinks and I really hope you like it,” The two make more polite conversation before arriving and sit down at a table. “I’ll go get our drinks,” Harry says and Draco nods.

The blond simply fiddles with his fingers as he waits before he hears someone say, “God, how can Harry hang around such a loser? I knew Harry was a bit weird but he’s just throwing his social status out the window by hanging with that French freak,” 

Although Draco didn’t understand all of the student’s vocabulary, he turns toward the voice, frowning, recognizing them as an insult nonetheless. “You may talk rude of me but never talk low of Harry. Harry est beaucoup mieux que vous ne serez jamais,” He snaps and the two students he had been speaking with eye him with surprise. 

“Draco, are you okay? What’s going on?” Harry asks with confusion, two mugs in hand. 

“It is... nothing, Harry. There is no need worry,” Draco mutters, turning away from his peers, sitting back straight. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” The brunet asks again and Draco nods, taking a sip of his drink, pleased with the taste. The two sit around chatting and drinking for hours and when they see the time, they notice that it’s past midnight. “Do you just want to room at my dorm tonight?”

“Sure,” Draco smiles. The two walk back to Harry’s dorm and when they find their way to his room, they both curl into his bed, no questions asked. “Tu es très belle, Harry,” Draco mumbles under his breath.

“What’s that mean, Draco?” Harry asks and the blond blushes a deep red, not expecting Harry to have heard him. 

“I... I think you are beautiful,” He admits quietly

Harry chuckles, sitting up so he could kiss Draco’s temple lightly. “I think you’re beautiful too, Draco,” He says and suddenly everything felt right in the world.


	4. Saint Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco tries to jump from the Astronomy tower after getting assigned the task to kill Dumbledore and Harry tries to talk him out of it.
> 
> Sixth year!Drarry

With one leg swung over the rail of the Astronomy tower and the other following close behind, Draco lets off a broken sob. It didn’t matter what Voldemort wanted; Draco didn’t have it in him to kill his Headmaster. He would rather die than end someone else’s life.

The blond takes a final deep breath, shutting his eyes tight and right before he allows himself to fall he hears, “Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing?”

Draco’s eyes shoot open in surprise at the voice and his grip on the rail instinctively tightens. He looks back, tears still streaming down his cheeks and says, “Leave me be, Potter. I don’t want you here,”

“I’m not going to leave because I know if I do you’ll pitch yourself from this tower,” Harry says and Draco groans, shooting him an irritated glare. 

“Just leave,” He snaps. “You don’t even like me anyway,” Draco’s voice comes out small, vulnerable and it causes Harry’s heart to break.

“What caused this, Draco? What happened?” Harry asks gently, edging closer and Draco sways once he puts his hand out. 

“The Dark Lord…” Draco cringes. “He– He told me I have to kill Dumbledore. Or-Or he’ll kill me,” He whispers, a broken sob leaving his mouth soon after. “I can’t do that. I can’t, Harry and I won’t give him the pleasure of killing me so I’ll… I’ll do it myself,”

Harry’s face goes paler than Draco had ever seen it. He seemed to have thought the Slytherin lost his mind. And maybe he had. “Give me your hand,” The dark haired boy whispers, arm outstretched toward the opposing wizard. 

“N-No,” The blond stammers, looking away from the Boy Who Lived, shutting his eyes tight. The chilled air clung to him like a coat and the boy sways against the cool railing, knuckles stiff as a coiled wire. “Get away from me, Potter,” Draco snaps. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone,” He hisses. 

“You deserve to live, Draco. You’re not like them. You’re good and–” 

“I’m a Death Eater, Harry,” Draco steps in, irritated now. “There’s nothing good about me,” 

“That’s not true,” Harry says softly, hoping to console the boy. “You don’t find pleasure in hurting people. I saw the way you reacted when you hexed Katie Bell. You regretted it. Other Death Eaters wouldn’t have. You feel like you need to do this because Voldemort chose you to but you don’t, Draco. I can help you,” 

“Don’t act like you know me,” Draco snaps, allowing his tears to dry childishly on his cheeks. “You know nothing about me, Potter. What I’m capable of,” 

“You could kill him. I know you could. But that’s not you,” Harry whispers. “So please, Draco. Don’t jump,” 

Harry’s words ring like bells in Draco’s ears. That’s not you. That’s not you. That’s not you. The blond’s hands tremble, grip uneasy on the Astronomy rail and, with a quivering lip, swings a leg back over, back to safety. Once both feet were firmly on the ground, Harry lets off a sharp sigh. “I don’t get it,” Draco murmurs after a few moments of silence. “Why do you care so much?” Harry shrugs at this, trying to seem nonchalant, failing miserably. “It’s your hero complex, isn’t it?” 

“No,” Harry says instantly. 

“What is it then? Tell me, Potter. I’m just dying to know,” 

Harry frowns at his choice of words but nears closer to the boy. “I did it because… I care about you,” He says eventually which causes Draco’s silvery eyebrows to furrow. 

“You… care about me?” He asks, disbelieving. 

“Yes,” Harry huffs, irritated the boy didn’t believe him. “Is that so hard to accept?” 

“When your enemy of six years suddenly tells you he cares, yes I’d say that’s a bit hard to chew on,” Draco says, tone on edge. 

“I never hated you,” Harry murmurs. “You made me angry and sometimes I thought I hated you but I don’t,” 

“So what do you think of me, Potter?” Draco asks, not meeting his gaze. 

“I think you’re smart,” The boy begins. “And witty and… an idiot sometimes. I hate that you don’t see how good you are, Draco,” 

“It’s hard to love yourself when no one else does,” 

“Don’t say that,” Harry says instantly. “There are people out there who love you,” 

“Like who?” Draco snorts, no traces of humour in his tone. “C’mon, Potter. Tell me one name,” 

Harry takes a deep breath, thinking things over before closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to the blond’s. The world seems to have stopped spinning. Time and space no longer mattered. All that mattered was the fact that Harry was kissing Draco Malfoy and the Slytherin wasn’t pulling away. “Me,” Harry manages to choke out, breaking their kiss after a few moments and reconnects their lips seconds later, not letting the Malfoy respond. But neither seemed to mind.


	5. Body Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been forever and a day since I've updated this. Hopefully my posts will be at least semi regular from now on.

Draco had a very skilled tongue. Harry realizes this the moment the blond began licking the salt from his inner thigh, grinning devilishly as the salt crystals taint pink taste buds. “Scared, Potter?” He laughs, flashing pearly white teeth.

“No,” Harry says but the waver in his voice says otherwise. Draco only gives him a light nod, cheeks tainted crimson, flushed from the alcohol running through his veins. And here he was, ready to take another shot. Out of Harry’s navel. 

The Slytherin then moves up to Harry’s midriff, shoots him another flirtatious and cocky smile, before his eyes trail down to the dark haired wizard’s middle and moves downdowndown until Harry can feel Draco’s warm breath on his skin and suddenly the boy is sucking and Harry is aching. 

Draco pulls away then and snaps his fingers, ordering someone to hand him a sliver of lime. Someone does, an eighth year Harry didn’t have the mind to pay attention to, not having taken his eyes off Draco. He watches the boy suck the tart fruit with pursed, cherry lips and suddenly, all Harry wants is to kiss them. 

“Draco,” Harry finds himself calling as he pulls his shirt back down. The platinum boy’s grey eyes meet Harry’s, waiting for the boy to continue. 

“Yes Potter?” He asks, wiping lime juice from his chin. 

“Come back here,” 

Albino eyebrows furrow, confusion written over Draco’s pale face. “Why?” He asks tersely.

“Come over and you’ll find out,” 

Draco is undoubtedly intrigued by this and watches Harry take a shot from Parvati’s hand before sauntering over. “Now what did you wa–” Suddenly, Draco is on his back, the wood cold despite the billowing fire less than two feet away. Potter’s hands are hothothot on the delicate skin of his dainty wrists and all air leaves Draco’s lungs. “Potter, what the hell,” He hisses with a scowl that Harry boldly removes from his lips, substituting it with his own. 

Malfoy tries coming off as uninterested but the nearly inaudible whimpering noise from behind his mouth is enough to show he is anything but.

“My turn,” He murmurs and watches Draco’s eyebrows turn inward once again. 

“What?” Draco asks, watching Harry grin drunkenly at him. 

“It’s my turn to do a body shot off you,” He says simply. Draco’s eyes widen at this, frozen to the floor as he watches Harry rise to get the tequila bottle from across the room. It doesn’t take him long and moments later, alcohol is being poured into the shallow dip of his navel, traveling down his sides at Potter’s sloppy application. The dark haired boy then adds a bit of salt to Malfoy’s thigh and before he knows it, Harry’s lips are traveling up his body. His tongue is warm and wet against Draco’s skin and Harry takes in the blond downy happy trail which beckons down to the boy’s groin which Harry isn’t drunk or brave enough to touch. 

Harry does the body shot as if he was born to do so and shivers of arousal rush down Draco’s spine at Harry’s lust blown pupils. “I–” He begins but is cut off by another panicked eighth year. 

“McGonagall’s coming!” They screech and everyone seems to freeze before Pansy jolts into action. 

“Do you want to get caught? Hide everything!” She snaps. Draco pulls his clothes up, heart in his throat when he hears McGonagall scolding Peeves from down the hall. He had grabbed hold of the tequila bottle just as the headmistress walks in and glares at the students disappointingly. 

“It’s very unwise to be up at such an hour,” She tells them sharply. Harry and Draco lock eyes from their separate places in the common room and Harry watches the blond wizard cast a wordless shrinking charm on the tequila bottle, slipping it into his pocket and winking at him.


	6. BDSM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry shows an innocent Draco the world of BDSM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written anything like this but I hope you enjoy. This came about from a lovely anon on tumblr. You can follow me there at lovelylanden.

“I guess I just don’t get it,” Draco says quietly, eyes bowed down into his salad bowl. 

“Get what?” Harry asks with a raised eyebrow. 

The tanned wizard watches as Draco twirls his fork around nimble fingers, blushing. “How you... make it a lifestyle,” He squeaks, horrified as the words leave his mouth. “It seems so unorthodox,” 

Harry can’t help but laugh at this and grins as he says, “It doesn’t have to be a lifestyle. For most people it isn’t. It seems like in your case it’d just be something you’d enjoy in the bedroom,” 

The green eyed wizard watches Draco go an even darker shade of fuchsia. “I-- You-- How did you--” Draco stammers, looking anywhere but at Harry now. Embarrassment ran like acid through the pale boy’s veins. He squirms in his seat, hating how Harry had managed to read him so easily. 

“It was obvious,” He admits and watches Draco’s eyes widen. “Only to those who pursue the lifestyle. Picking out submissives is rather easy,” Harry watches Draco play with his food, face the colour of the cherry tomatoes he had been avoiding and says nothing more. 

“How did you come across all of this anyway?” Draco asks quietly, finding it in himself to take another bite of his food, wanting something else to do rather than blush like a complete idiot in front of Harry Potter. 

“Porn,” Harry admits, grinning when Draco stiffens in his chair. “And lots of research,” 

“With the Weaselette I’m sure,” Draco mutters before taking another mouthful of salad. 

Harry shrugs, not taking the jab and says, “I take it you’ve never experimented,” 

Draco scoffs at this, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth. “Not that it’s any of your business but I’ve done plenty,” He snaps and when Harry raises an eyebrow at him, it’s obvious that he had seen through Draco’s lie. Coming from a Pureblood family meant there wasn’t much room for sexual adventures. Marriage was very important for Purebloods and therefore, sex beforehand was highly discouraged. So the most action Draco had ever received had been from his own hand. Draco sighs heavily and looks up at the clock. “My lunch is over, Potter. I’d love to continue this conversation but, as it goes, duty calls,” He says, pushing away his salad and getting up from his chair, leaving Potter alone, unabashedly staring at Draco’s ass as he goes. 

***

“Malfoy,” Draco nearly jumps out of his skin as he collides into Potter in the changing rooms. 

“Merlin, what?” Draco hisses, glaring at Harry who stood so bloody confident in front of Draco as if he had no care in the world. And maybe he didn’t. 

“I’d like to finish that conversation we were having earlier. Back at my place,” He suggests with a shit eating grin and Draco narrows his eyes at him. 

“If you think we’re going to be doing anything, you’re badly mistaken,” He huffs, moving past Harry over to his locker. He spells it open and slips back into his street clothes, pretending he couldn’t feel Potter’s eyes on him. 

“Not unless you’d like to, Draco,” He says and when the blond turns, he finds Harry raising a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “In any case, I wouldn’t be opposed to showing you a few things,” Draco is blushing again which doesn’t surprise the two of them in the slightest. 

“I uh-- Okay,” He whispers, shoving his Healer robes into his locker and follows Potter out of St. Mungos and out to the nearest Apparation point. 

“Side along?” Harry suggests, unfazed as if the topic they were about to explore was nothing more than that of the weather. Draco takes Harry’s outstretched arm and the deep tug on his abdomen is instantaneous before they’re standing in the middle of Potter’s living room. His ears ached from the switch in pressure and his head is swimming. He clings to Harry’s arm just a bit tighter, nausea playing in the pit of his stomach. “Alright Draco?” Harry asks softly. 

“Mm,” Draco hums, eyes closed. “Never really been a fan of Apparating,” He admits. Harry takes him over to his couch and moves to the kitchen to get the boy something to drink. Draco felt completely humiliated. He should’ve suggested another reason of travel so he didn’t look like such a weak git. 

“Here, drink this,” Harry says, handing the boy a clear glass, carbonation bubbling around the rim. 

“What is it?” Draco asks quietly. 

“White soda. It should help with your stomach,” The blond nods slowly and takes a sip from the cup. The carbonation hurts his throat at first but after a few gulps his stomach settles. 

“Thanks,” He murmurs, setting the glass down and shooting Harry a thankful smile. “I’m sorry,” He says after a few moments. “I feel so stupid and I’m wasting your ti--” 

“Stop. That’s something I don’t allow my submissives to do,” Harry says, cutting the other boy off. 

“What?” Draco whispers.

“Apologizing for things that aren’t their fault. You can’t control how your body reacts, Draco. So don’t apologize,” Draco wanted to point out how he wasn’t Harry’s submissive so he could do as he very damn well pleased but an unexpected shiver of arousal was distracting him from telling Harry so. He loved how Harry seemed to have switched roles with a click of his fingers. One moment he was soft and caring and the next he was all business and scolding Draco for something he had subconsciously done. 

“Oh. Sorry, Harry. I mean-- Shit. I’m sorr--” Draco groans, running a hand through his hair and Harry laughs, amused at the boy’s actions. 

“It’s alright,” He says and when Draco looks up and locks eyes with him, he can tell Harry means it. “That’s something a lot of submissives do,” He points out and Draco finds himself blushing again, fighting the urge to hide his face in his hands. “They want to please their masters so they apologize when they feel they’re doing the opposite,” Draco finds himself nodding at this. He was undoubtedly intrigued by what Harry had to say despite how utterly embarrassed he was. 

“Does anyone else you know... live this lifestyle?” He asks softly and watches Harry shrug. 

“A few Aurors I used to work with,” Harry had switched from being an Auror to working with Draco at St. Mungos six months ago. The two had been undeniably infatuated with each other ever since. 

“Have you ever thought about taking the uh, the submissive role?” Draco asks shyly and Harry shrugs, thinking it over.

“Not really. Everyone I’ve involved myself with was rather submissive,” He admits and Draco wanted to curl in on himself and die because he was literally have this conversation with Harry bloody Potter. He knew that Pansy was somewhat of a kinky person; she couldn’t come without a pair of hands wrapped around her throat and that was what had sparked Draco’s interest in the subject in the first place. He remembered being mortified by the very idea at first but the more porn he watched and the more he delved into the subject the more he realized how fascinating the concept was and how quickly it managed to turn him on. 

“So are there rules when you’re you know, doing this in the bedroom?”

Harry goes business-like again at the question, nodding. “There are a lot of things someone has to learn before they try a lot of things in the bedroom. You never want to hurt your partner so you have to make sure you’re doing everything safely,” Draco nods as if he understands yet his mind is reeling. This was much more complex than what he had originally thought. “There’s a certain way you need to position your hands when you go to choke someone. You don’t want to cause them to lose consciousness, you just want to give them the sensation of blocking their airway. Or there are certain ways you tie someone to a headboard or--” 

“Whoa,” Draco mutters, completely overwhelmed. He squirms in his seat, suddenly very aware of how tight he was in his pants and prays Harry doesn’t notice. Much to his dismay, the boy does. 

“Would you like me to show you, Draco?” Harry asks and suddenly the room is all too warm. Malfoy thinks back to the changing room at the hospital and the way he had shut down Potter when he had brought up the possibility of any sexual interactions and realizes just how the tables have turned as he finds himself nodding. 

Harry shows him to his bedroom and Draco finds himself falling back onto Potter’s California King. The mattress was soft, the sheets silky and cool against his skin. “W-What are you going to show me first?” He asks quietly, eyes attentive on the dominant boy who had since migrated to the dresser across the room. 

“There are many things I can show you, Draco. But first I need you to take your clothes off for me,” Draco feels all blood rush to his cock at the other wizard’s words. He could barely believe his ears. Potter was telling him to strip for him. How fucking unreal. 

“I um-- Okay,” He murmurs and shyly discards of his shirt, the item of clothing landing with a soft thump on the hardwood floor. He wraps his arms around his middle insecurely and when Potter sees this, he’s frowning. “I’m sorry. Do you not like it? I can just go. This is stupid,” Draco drops down to find his shirt again and when he begins pulling his shirt back over his head, a firm hand stops him. 

“No,” He hears Harry say, grabbing ahold of the shirt and throwing it back to the floor. “You look wonderful. I just don’t like when you hide your body. You’re beautiful. Trust me,” Draco relaxes again, working on the buttons of his jeans this time. When all material had left his milky thighs, he sits and waits for Harry to return. The boy does, holding a bottle of lube and Draco eyes the sticky substance with relief. This was okay. This was something he recognized. “It’s not lube,” Harry says and Draco frowns. Or... not. 

“What is it then?” Draco finds himself asking. 

“Oil. It helps with aftercare,” The word aftercare wasn’t something that Draco recognized and Harry continues as soon as he sees Draco’s blond eyebrows furrow. “Aftercare is what happens after sex or anything BDSM related,” He explains. “If I were to spank you, for instance, I’d use this because it’d probably hurt afterward,” 

“You’d spank me that hard?” Draco asks with wide eyes which causes Harry to laugh.

“Well I wouldn’t exactly be gentle, would I?” The Slytherin finds himself blushing at this and he shakes his head. Harry moves to the end of the bed and when he orders Draco over his lap, the opposing boy lets off a shudder of arousal. As soon as he does as he’s old, elbows braced into the mattress and ass up, he gasps when he feels Potter pull down the light material of his boxers. “What’s your safe word?” He asks softly. 

“S-Safe word?” Draco stammers with confusion. 

“Like if this all becomes too much for you. A word you’d want me to use to tell me to stop,” Harry explains gently.

Draco mulls this over for a moment before saying, “Um, red,” Harry makes a quiet affirmation sound and Draco feels the boy’s hand land against his bum without warning, a deep stinging ache left in its wake.  
The blond lets off the smallest of whimpers and when Harry asks, “What’s your colour?” Draco responds instantly with “Green,” Harry chuckles with amusement before another slap is presented and a mild moan leaves Draco’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” He whines, voice needy. 

“You look so good like this,” Harry praises and Draco can feel Harry’s erection pressing against his own.

“Fuck,” Draco says again. “Harry please. Please kiss me,” Draco is flipped on his back a moment later and feels Harry’s confident and dominating lips against his own. The boy kisses him as if with his last dying breath and Draco melts into its intensity. Harry’s hands find their way into Draco’s hair and the blond moans yet again when Harry gives it a sharp tug. Draco never would’ve thought he would see a day such as this one. Where he was wound in Harry’s arms, lips pressed firmly together, relishing in the boy’s warmth, all roaming hands and heated skin. Draco loved it. “Touch me, Harry. Please,” 

Draco never thought of himself as one to beg but Merlin, he might do it more often as it got him what he wanted so bloody quickly. He feels Harry’s hands traveling down his chest and gasps against the boy’s mouth when he feels them come in contact with his cock, still strained in his boxers. He’s rigid from his place on Potter’s bed but his muscles go flacid as soon as Harry goes to touch him and Godric, did it feel so fucking good. 

Draco is a moaning mess and would otherwise be humiliated if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with how good Harry was making him feel. That boy worked wonders his own hand never could. He chants a mantra of “fuckfuckfuck” under his breath until his cum paints Harry’s fist. He lays back on Potter’s bed, chest heaving and exhaustion running deep behind his eyes. “Can we do this more often?” He finds himself babbling which causes Harry to laugh with the smallest of grins. 

“However often you’d like,” He says, eyes blazing and hell, were the two looking forward to it. 

*** 

The second time the two decide to meet up and let off much needed steam was after a rather stressful day after work nearly two weeks later. Draco had been taking a shower in the ones provided in the changing room after a patient had vomited slugs down his front when Potter had walked in all disheveled and sexy. The blond had peaked through the curtain to check who had entered and as soon as he had caught eye of the fuming wizard he grins cheekily and says, “Care to join me, Potter?” 

Harry’s clothes are seemingly off faster than Draco can say Quidditch. The blond had never seen Potter’s cock before and finds it was even better than he had been expecting. It was thicker than he had imagined and the sight of it made his mouth nearly water. The dark haired wizard squeezes into the cubicle beside Draco and the blond is pushed under the steamy spray as Harry begins kissing down his neck leaving hickeys there. “Fuck, Harry,” Draco hears his voice echo off the tiled walls and struggles to free himself from Potter’s grasp long enough to cast a Muffilato to keep coworkers from overhearing the two of them.

Harry goes back to work on Draco’s neck as soon as he returns and the blond finds himself writhing in his touch. His cock was aching painfully against his tummy and he finds himself searching for Potter’s hand, positioning it around his throat. A deep growl falls from Harry’s mouth, pupils blown wide and he gives Draco’s throat a light squeeze, allowing the boy to get used to the feeling before tightening his grip and Merlin no wonder Pansy enjoyed this. 

It doesn’t take Draco long before he’s coming and he’s buzzing with euphoria soon afterward. The water had since turned cold and uncomfortable so the two leave the stall soon after that. Draco’s throat aches from where Potter had touched him but he doesn’t mind; he rather enjoyed the phantom reminder of Harry’s grip.

“See you tomorrow, Potter. Maybe if you’re lucky I might just return the favor,” Draco says, slipping on his clothes and leaving Harry hard and aching. And god, Malfoy was such a fucking tease.


	7. Fears and Butterbeers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since I've last updated this or any of my other work sorry for that pals. I hope you enjoy nonetheless x

Harry’s eyes snap open, frozen in a cold sweat. He was shaking with fear as he peers around his shared dorm and takes a few deep breaths. Harry finds Ron and Blaise sleeping soundly in their bunks; the only other boy who seemed overcome with nightmares was Draco Malfoy. He was tossing and turning in his bed, breathing heavily and Harry frowns. His silencing charms must’ve worn off. Harry knew the blond cast them and was sure Draco knew he did the same.

Small inaudible words pass his lips, eyes shut tight and Harry is unable to make it out until Draco yells, “He’ll kill me!” and Harry’s blood runs cold. Was Draco having a flashback to that night on the Astronomy tower?

The blond bolts up from his bed, breathing fast and visibly quivering from where he laid. “Fuck,” He whispers, not yet noticing Harry watching. Draco locks eyes with Harry moments later and scowls. “What’re you looking at, Potter?” He hisses.

“I have them too. Nightmares,” Harry admits after a few moments of silence.

“Yes well... You’re not to tell anyone,” Draco says, breathing finally regulating. He watches Harry nod before turning on his side and feigning sleep until he hears the rustling of Potter’s sheets and tries drifting off until the light peaks above the trees.

***

Two nights later, Harry is woken up to Draco’s terrified whimpers. He eyes the boy from his bunk, watching him thrash in his sheets. Harry stumbles out of his bed and over to Draco’s. “Draco,” He whispers. “Draco, you have to wake up,”

It takes a few moments but eventually Draco opens his eyes. When he realizes it’s Harry standing above his bed and not Pansy or Blaise, the two who usually woke him from his night terrors, he freezes. “Potter,” He stammers, tired eyes wide. “What’re you doing?”

“You were having another nightmare,” Harry murmurs into the darkness and Draco shifts uncomfortably against his mattress.

“Oh,” The blond mutters. “Sorry for waking you. My silencing charms keep—“

“Wearing off? Don’t worry about it,” Harry reassures him softly. “C’mon, lets go take a walk,” He insists and could already imagine Malfoy’s eyebrows furrowing as he thinks it over.

“Fine,” He whispers and pulls himself out of bed. The two shrug on their cloaks over their pajamas and stumble around the castle.

Harry leads Draco to Hogsmeade, prompting him to get a butterbeer with him and Draco scowls uncertainly. “The Three Broomsticks probably isn’t open. It’s two in the morning, Harry,” Draco says, tone still thick with sleep.

Harry has to fight to keep his jaw from hitting the snowy floor. This was the first time in forever that Draco had ever called him Harry, especially to his face. He shakes his head instead and points a finger at the building which broadcast dim lighting from the windows and grins. “Told you,” He says triumphantly and Draco rolls his eyes playfully, checking him in the shoulder.

The two stumble into The Three Broomsticks with chilled hands and sighs gratefully at the warmth it provided. “I’ll get our drinks,” Harry insists with a smile. “Don’t flake on me,” He chuckles and Draco flashes him an obscene hand gesture before he goes.

The woman taking his order doesn’t ask any questions, gaze flicking to his scar briefly before handing over the mugs. When Harry stumbles back to Draco’s table, he finds the boy tracing over the engravings left on the tarnished wood. “Look who’s still present,” Draco mutters upon spotting him.

“Much appreciated,” Harry grins. Draco wraps nimble fingers around the warm mug, waiting for it to cool and Harry taps his fingers on the table anxiously. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks eventually. “Hermione always tells me it’s better to talk about it. Helps me stay grounded,”

An expressionless mask takes over Malfoy’s face and he shoots Harry a pathetic glare. “Doubtful you care,” He mutters, fiddling with the handle of his glass.

“If I didn’t care I wouldn’t have taken you out for drinks in the cold,” Harry points out patiently. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m always here to listen,” He promises.

Draco sighs heavily and takes a sip of his butterbeer which was still much too hot. “It was when I was back at the Manor,” He says eventually. “When Voldemort was still...” Draco lets off a shaky breath and only then does Harry notice Draco’s trembling hands which gripped his mug tightly. “He made me preform Unforgivables on a few Death Eaters after they failed to capture you,”

Harry doesn’t dare mention how he had witnessed this secondhand behind Voldemort’s eyes and shoots him a pitiful glance instead. “I always dream that Hermione and Ron are dead. Somehow in the midst of the war they...” The dark haired boy lets off a shaky breath, surprised he was sharing something like this.

“Sometimes it’s that my mum died,” Draco admits, wringing his hands, mug forgotten. “Ones like those are the worst, I think. I fought so hard to keep my family safe so the thought of them dying...” Draco shakes his head frantically as if to rid the thought from his mind and runs a hand through his hair. “My father used to have nightmares too. I’d hear him talking about them to my mother. They’d be about his stay in Azkaban,”

Draco’s words seem to humanize Lucius and Harry has a sudden fondness for Draco, surprised he was willing to share such a thing. “Sirius wasn’t in a good way after he escaped Azkaban,” Harry tells him quietly and feels a familiar twinge of hurt each time he brought up his godfather.

“It’s stupid that I... That this affects me so much,” Draco mutters under the dim lighting.

“Don’t say that,” Harry says quietly, surprising them both when he rests a gentle hand on top of Draco’s.

“I had to stay in St. Mungos for a bit,” Draco whispers, sounding ashamed. “I uh— I may have gotten addicted to Dreamless Sleep?” He says, confession coming out as a question. “That was why I was late arriving to Hogwarts this year. I was... recovering. The nightmares have been worse ever since I got off it,”

Harry has to force himself not to stare with disbelief. Of course he had wondered why Draco hadn’t shown up on September first but had always figured he would never find out. So he was completely flabbergasted to have learnt such a thing. “Draco,” Harry says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t you dare pity me. I did this to myself,” Draco hisses. “Don’t make me regret telling you this,”

Harry shuts his trap instantly. “Okay,” He murmurs.

Draco looks down at his butterbeer which had since gone cold and mutters a warming charm to the drink, doing the same to Harry’s which was barely touched. “We should get back,” Draco says once the two of them had drained their drinks. “Merlin knows what time it is,” He casts a discreet Tempus charm between the two of them and they both gape with surprise at the time. Nearly four in the morning.

Draco swears under his breath with a grimace and Harry pulls him from the table moments later. “C’mon,” Harry mutters, pulling the blond along. “We’ve got to get back,”

They make it back to their dorm room in record time, burrowing under their covers without a word. “I’ll skip class if you do,” Draco prompts into the darkness. He hears Harry chuckle from his bed before he answers.

“Fine. But only if you sneak off to the kitchens with me for breakfast,”

“Deal,” Draco replies. Neither get much more sleep, too excited for hours to come.


	8. Migraine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry gets a horrible migraine and is convinced his scar is hurting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since I updated this or any of my other fics. Sorry about that my dudes. If you want to see more frequent one shots from me you can catch me on tumblr at lovelylanden Much love x

Harry clutches his head with a grimace. He rubs at his scar, convinced it was about to split open although the pain had been dormant for years. Potter lets off a soft whimper and falls back against his mattress with tears collecting in his eyes.

Draco gets home about an hour later. He brushes his hair back with his hand, blond strands rustled from the wind. “Harry?” He calls, slipping off his shoes and shrugging off his cloak. “Hun? Are you home?” Draco asks again before finally getting to their bedroom where he finds Harry crying and clutching his head again. “Harry,” The taller boy gasps, flitting to his side. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“My scar,” Harry whispers, lip trembling. “It— It hurts,” He sobs and Draco pulls his boyfriend into his lap, frowning. That’s when it finally dawns on him.

“Baby, it’s just a migraine. Voldemort is gone, love. It’s not your scar,” Draco promises, rubbing his back. Harry clings to Draco’s shirt, sniffling and shakes his aching head, convinced otherwise. “It’s a stress headache,” Malfoy concludes, running a hand through Harry’s hair, as he knew the man loved. “You’ve been working yourself so hard lately,” He scolds lightly and both of them knew it was true. If Harry wasn’t stuck late in his office at the Ministry, he often brought his work home with him.

“No,” Harry whines yet his breathing had begun to settle.

“Yes,” Draco argues before slipping from the boy’s grasp and grabbing a vial from his bedside table. He hands it over to Harry and says, “I brewed you a batch of pain medicine a few days ago,”

Harry takes the medication in shaky hands and after a few minutes manages to swallow it. Draco takes it back, setting the beaker down again and pulls Harry back into his arms. “It hurts,” Harry whispers quietly and Draco kisses his forehead sweetly.

“I know, love. But it’ll be gone in a few minutes,” He promises.

After taking another shaky breath, Harry nods. “Okay,” He murmurs and shuts his eyes slowly.

“Let’s have a little nap. You look like you need it,” Draco prompts and it doesn’t take Harry much to agree.

The two settle back on the bed, both more at ease before quickly falling asleep, Potter’s headache subsiding by the second, worries of danger and Voldemort lost the tighter Draco held him close.


	9. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry pays a visit to Andromeda and finds Draco fast asleep on her couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always enjoyed Harry and Draco bonding while babysitting Teddy and also the two bickering in Parseltongue so Teddy wouldn't be able to understand them so get ready for that. Otherwise, enjoy x

The knock on Andromeda’s front door is hollow and, from the state of heavy sleep Draco was in, he hadn’t managed to hear it. Six year old Teddy Lupin was sitting a few feet from the couch Draco was passed out on, swishing around the blond’s wand and giggling when golden sparks would fly out the end. Harry Potter walks through the front door with slight hesitation, feeling somewhat out of place having not been properly invited in. He stumbles down the long hallway toward the sound of Teddy’s laughing and when he sees Draco fast asleep on the couch, he is both surprised and fond.

The boy looked exhausted; purple bruises beneath his eyes and otherwise ghostly pale skin only aided his look of insomnia. Harry is on the fence about waking the boy so he looks over at Teddy, startled at the fact that he was currently playing with Malfoy’s wand, something that could easily manage to burn the house down. “How long has Draco been asleep for?” He asks softly, nearing closer to the two and watches Teddy shrug.

“Not long,” He says, looking confident with the black hawthorn in his small hands. “Draco has been very sleepy,” Teddy confesses. “Auntie says he never gets enough sleep. He doesn’t play with me a lot. He’s always so tired!” Teddy pouts and Harry frowns.

Harry debates on waking the blond but before he does, the boy’s eyes flutter open and he’s momentarily confused at the sight of Potter. “What’re you doing here? Ted, where’s my wand?” Draco says groggily and Harry points his chin to the child who still held Draco’s worn wand between his fingers. The blond groans, running a hand through his bed head. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch it?” He scolds yet Teddy doesn’t look very regretful.

Draco takes the wand from the young Lupin with such a gentle touch Harry can’t help but smile at the sight of it. “You didn’t answer my question, Potter,”

Harry feels slightly uncomfortable under Draco’s gaze yet shakes the feeling away. “I always have tea with Andromeda on Wednesdays,” He says simply.

“You must not have gotten her owl, then. She’s out for the day. Had some loose ends to take care of,” The blond shrugs, yawning.

“Like what?” Harry asks with surprise and a sour expression takes over Draco’s face.

“If she didn’t tell you, it’s none of your business,” Draco snaps and Harry’s eyes widen at the blond. The boy spoke Parseltongue?

“She’s shared plenty with me,” Harry insists and Draco rolls his eyes.

“Obviously not this,” He hisses through the uncommon dialect and Harry scowls although he knew the blond had a point. It may not be Draco’s place to say. “Why must you constantly stick your nose into other people’s business?” Draco continued hotly, glaring it at the boy.

“Because I care!” Harry insists and the same sour expression takes over Draco’s face again.

“Surely,” The blond replies with an eye roll and Harry bristles with anger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks with irritation and Draco shrugs, turning away from Harry and back to Teddy who eyed them curiously.

“What was that, Dray?” The young one asks with wide eyes and Draco dismissed the question with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry about it, bud,” He replies, smiling softly and ruffling the boy’s hair. “Now, how about I make you mac and cheese with chicken nuggets? I know it’s your favorite,”

Teddy’s face visibly brightens at this and he nods, bolting up from where he sat, grinning. “Okay! Thanks Draco!”

The blond smiles fondly at his cousin and watches him sprint to the kitchen with a gentle expression Harry had never seen on the Slytherin. Harry follows the Malfoy to the kitchen, the boy’s actions sluggish with fatigue. “I didn’t know you were a part of his life,” Harry admits and Draco says nothing at first. “How often do you see him?”

“Three times a week,” Draco replies softly and nearly knocks into the corner of the kitchen island as he enters the room.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks quietly and Draco nods, eyelids hooded with exhaustion.

“Fine,” He says yet the dark circles under his eyes had seemed to worsen once he woke. Draco falls back into the first available kitchen chair and rests his head in his hands, groaning. Harry takes it upon himself to grab the chicken nuggets from the freezer and the mac and cheese from the cabinet.

“What’s got you so tired?” Harry asks once he had spelled the water to boil.

“I’ve got a huge project to do at the Ministry. The deadline is coming up and if I don’t finish it on time they’re going to let me go. I’ve been on thin ice ever since they hired me. I’m sure you can guess why,” Draco says bitterly.

“That’s not fair,” Harry points out with a frown and Draco rolls his eyes.

“As you may have noticed, Potter, life isn’t fair,” The blond scoffs as Harry puts the chicken nuggets into the oven. Teddy had migrated from playing with Draco’s wand to colouring in a wizarding colouring book which moved as soon as you finished the drawing. It had been a gift from Draco which had quickly become his favorite.

“It’s been six years,” Harry says softly, taking the seat beside him. “You’d think they’d get over their grudges and treat you like an actual human being,”

“I haven’t been hexed in months so... I call that improvement,” Draco says, smiling sadly. “I’ll take what I can get at this point. It’s definitely put me in check,” He plays with the sleeve of his shirt, hiding what Harry already knew was his dormant dark mark. The tan boy had only seen it once, shortly after the war, fascinated in the fact that it had faded to a soft charcoal grey.

“I could—“

“No,” Draco snaps. “You’re not going to do anything. I’m sick of being everyone’s pity case,”

“Draco...” Harry frowns disapprovingly. “I could help,”

“Being saved by the Golden Boy thrice now? I have at least some dignity left, Potter,” Draco says, lips nearing a pout.

Harry merely sighs, stuck between frustrated and sad. Although he hadn’t had the best history with Draco, it was obvious how much he had changed and Harry wished everyone would give him a second chance. The oven beeps before he can plead his case and he sets a decent helping onto each plate before finding his seat again. Draco can’t help but smile at the fact that Harry had applied Teddy’s ketchup into a shaky smiley face.

“What’s going on in Harry Potter land?” Draco can’t help but ask with a raised eyebrow.

Harry snorts with amusement at this. “Basically nothing. Work, sleep, repeat,” He shrugs.

“Glad you’ve done so much after saving the world,” Draco teases with a soft smile, picking at the meal Harry had presented.

“Sod off,” Harry chuckles and the two lapse in comfortable silence.

“I don’t mind this,” Draco admits once his plate had emptied. “Being here with you, I mean,” He continues, the lightest blush on his pale cheeks. “It’s nice... I haven’t been around anyone except my family and colleagues in a long time,”

A small smile flits across Harry’s face. “I like it too,” He murmurs and rests his hand over the blond’s, blushing a similar shade.

The two watch Teddy colour, both stuck in their own heads. “Want to do it again sometime? Just us two?” Draco asks hesitantly and a grin falls across Harry’s face again.

“I’d like that,” He replies.

Blushing a darker fuchsia, Draco nods. “It’s a date,” He murmurs, the two both giddy at the mere thought of it.


	10. Flower Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where those experiencing unrequited love go terribly ill cough up flower petals. The only cure is for their lover to return the feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot is very long. I decided to post two one shots in one go though because I abandon this account pretty often and feel pretty bad about it. Anyway, enjoy x

Draco coughs loudly into his hand, the action seeming to choke him as it happens. He grimaces at the flower petals left between his pale fingers and throws them into the trash with a glare. Hermione Granger walks into Draco’s office moments later. “I was thinking about the most recent case,” She says, holding up a thick Manila folder.

“What about it?” Draco asks, voice rough.

“Everything is leading back to the troll incident in Albania,” She tells him, taking the spare seat at his desk.

“Yes,” Draco sighs. “But that’s not relevant at this point,”

Hermione nods, Draco’s input not surprising her. “We’ve looked through everything. It just doesn’t make sense,” She groans, running a hand through her unruly hair.

“Trust me, I was up all last night looking at it. I’m aware,” Draco snaps before putting his head in his hands and sighing with frustration. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. I’m just not feeling well,” He mutters before finally looking up at his work partner.

“You should go home if you’re not feeling well, Draco,” Hermione suggests and doesn’t notice the way Draco’s eyes had shot over to the trash can filled with petals at her side.

“I can’t miss another day. I’ve already missed enough,” Draco says stubbornly and Hermione for once doesn’t argue. The blond feels another cough rising in his throat so he excuses himself before fleeing to the bathroom. He had just managed to close the door before erupting into a coughing fit, flower petals falling from his lips with each heave of his chest.

The blond runs a shaky hand through his hair before washing up and leaving the bathroom, knocking into Potter as he exits. “Merlin, sorry Malfoy,” He apologizes with a friendly smile and Draco offers one as well. “Are you okay?” Harry asks the sickly boy, frowning. “You look pale,”

Draco sighs and nods robotically. “I’m fine, Potter. Thank you,” He murmurs before maneuvering around the head Auror and going back to his office. Hermione was gone by the time he had come back but had left her file for him to look over. Again. Draco groans but gets to work.

“You need to sit up,” Pansy says. “Maybe that will help stop the coughing,”

Draco shoots her a pathetic glare, pain flaring in his chest. “I’ve been sitting up all day and that’s done nothing,” He says.

“Maybe we should take you to St. Mungos,” The dark haired girl suggests in a hurry.

“No,” Draco says instantly. “We are not going there,” He shoots her another harsh look but Pansy doesn’t flinch.

“Well... What do you want me to do then?” She asks and Draco merely shrugs.

“Nothing,” He says simply and Pansy narrows her eyes.

“Nothing...” She echoes.

“Yes,” Draco mutters, rubbing at his sore throat. “Nothing,” Pansy stays uncharacteristically quiet before giving the blond a short nod and leaving the room.

Draco is convinced that the girl had simply left and Apparated back to her own flat only to find her coming to his side again holding a hot cup of tea. When Draco tells her his theory, she only rolls her eyes and passes off the mug. “That’s a stupid thing to think,” She says which makes Draco laugh. “I was just making you tea. With loads of honey. It helps with sore throats,”

Draco shoots her the smallest of smiles, takes a sip of tea and curls into her side. “You’re the best,” He whispers and Pansy only rolls her eyes fondly before running her fingers through his hair.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” She asks quietly once half of Draco’s mug was drained and his coughing had quieted.

“Potter? No,” Draco scoffs. “Are you kidding? I’d make an absolute fool of myself,”

“This is killing you, Draco,” Pansy whispers into the dim room.

“So let it. Potter doesn’t love me and he never will. I’m done relying on hope. That won’t do shit. Potter is straight and... would never date a Death Eater,”

“Ex Death Eater,” Pansy murmurs yet otherwise doesn’t argue. She can feel Draco trembling against her, from the illness or overwhelming emotion, she would never know.

“It doesn’t bother me anymore,” He whispers into the darkness. “That he doesn’t love me back, I mean. If I die this way then... that’s how it is. Is there really any better way to go? Death by flower petals? Iconic,” Draco jokes and watches the smallest of smiles flit across Pansy’s face.

“You’re an idiot,” She says, whacking her friend lightly.

“You love me and you know it,” Draco says drowsily.

“Shut up,” Pansy replies and the two fall asleep moments after.

It was two weeks later that Draco is confronted by Hermione. Seeing her standing in his office with her arms crossed firmly across her chest was never a good sign and Draco knew this wouldn’t end well. “Granger?” He greets with confusion.

“Sit,” She orders and Draco does, eyebrows furrowed.

“Is it something about the case? Something so shocking, my limbs will betray me if I’m standing to hear it?” Draco grins but Hermione doesn’t smile. This worries him further. “What’s going on?” He asks, sobering up.

“I know about your... condition,” She says, voice hushed and Draco stiffens in his chair.

“What?” He mutters although he knew playing dumb would get him nowhere.

“Your Hanahaki disease,” Hermione murmurs, frowning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco lies, fiddling with his fingers and fighting back the strong urge to cough. He could feel the tightness in his lungs and squirms as Hermione watches him until he can’t hold it back anymore and coughs harshly into his sleeve. He tries hiding the flowers from Granger but the girl is too quick from his unsuspecting hands.

“I can help, Draco,” She whispers and Draco shakes his head fiercely.

“You can’t. No one can. There’s no cure,” Draco shrugs, feigning casualty. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Things would never work,” He coughs again and grimaces, throwing the handful of petals into the bin.

“You don’t know that. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure she’s lovely--”

“He,” Draco cuts her off before she could continue. “He is lovely but... He’ll never love me back,” Hermione isn’t shocked by the correction and plows past it nonetheless.

“What makes you say that?” She asks.

“The fact that I have this disease is a pretty good reason,” Draco mutters, slumping back down into his chair. “It doesn’t matter,” He says again, wanting this conversation to end. “We should be getting back to work. Let’s pretend this conversation never happened,”

Hermione wants to argue but knew Draco was just as stubborn as she was and that things wouldn’t go anywhere; it would just be another day wasted. She steals worried glances at the blond all throughout their shift and when Draco catches her sitting with a heavy book with information on his disease at her desk, he scowls. “Stop it,” He orders, irritated.

“What?” Hermione asks, shutting the book guiltily.

“This! Butting your nose into my business. It’s... unnecessary.” Draco says with a glare.

“Well it’s seems you’re doing nothing about it so someone has to,” Hermione snaps.

Draco recoils with surprise at this but it doesn’t stifle the anger burning in his veins. “It’s none of your business! We’re work partners! That’s it! You don’t need to fix everything, Hermione. I’m not Potter or your little boyfriend. So leave me the hell alone!” He yells.

The door to Hermione’s office opens moments later and Harry walks inside, looking concerned. “What’s going on in here?” He asks worriedly and Draco shakes his head with present anger.

“Nothing. I was just leaving,” Draco hisses before moving past Harry and out of the Ministry. He doesn’t realize he had left all of his belongings in his office until he’s stepping into his flat and groans with irritation. Draco wouldn’t go back to get his things; he didn’t want to risk running into Harry or Hermione on his way there so he lays back in bed instead, staring at the ceiling. He debates on firecalling Pansy but goes against it, not wanting to be a bother. The girl worried about him enough.

Draco decides on making a cup of sweet tea as Pansy had done for him and after taking the first sip realizes it’s not quite the same. He lays back on the couch, tea forgotten and falls asleep with a burning throat and an aching mind.

“Draco,” The door to his office creaks open and Hermione walks inside, looking slightly guilty.

“What?” Draco asks tersely, stiff from his current position slouched over his paperwork.

“I took a trip to St. Mungos for you,” She says and Draco’s face pales. “I asked if there was any medication for your disease and they gave me this,” She holds up a tiny flask and Draco glares at it, recognizing it instantly.

“That won’t help,” He tells her quietly and watches her frown.

“How do you know?” Hermione asks with confusion and Draco rolls his tired eyes.

“Because I’ve tried it already. I’ve brewed it at home multiple times. It barely does anything and the side effects aren’t worth it,” He tells her. “Did you listen to anything I said yesterday?” Draco continues after she hadn’t replied. “I told you to stay the hell out of my business. This is why I haven’t told anyone. Because people who have never cared before will pretend to care now and I’m sick of it! So just... leave. Please,” His voice comes out a whisper near the end and Hermione nods, placing the flask on the edge of his desk before doing as he had asked.

Draco had tried to pay attention to his case file but his gaze continuously found its way back to the flask Hermione had left. The liquid was a pale pink, similar in colour to the shade of flower petals and Draco glares at it. He stands, taking the flask in his hands and stumbling off to the bathroom to dispose of it. He was alone in the loo, all other stalls abandoned so Draco takes the time to play with the glass between his hands. He had taken this when he had first found out about his disease but knew it wouldn’t do much for him.

Just as Draco is about to pop the cork and drain the liquid down the sink, the door opens and Potter walks inside. Draco’s eyes widen and Harry’s trail down to the flask in Draco’s hand, suspicious. “What’re you doing? What is that?” He asks sharply and Draco shoots him a glare, irritated.

“Nothing,” He says and turns his back to Harry, struggling with the cork under his watchful eyes.

“What do you mean nothing? It’s not nothing if you insist on hiding it from me,” Harry says and grabs the vial from Malfoy’s hands, inspecting it between his own.

“Hey! Give it back!” Draco yells and Harry only shakes his head, thrusting the vial into one of his many Auror robe pockets. The blond shoots him another glare. “You--” He begins but falls into an intense coughing fit again, flower petals littering the floor with the action. “Shit,” He whispers and Harry is looking at him in a way Draco couldn’t read.

“You-- You have Hanahaki disease,” He whispers and Draco rolls his eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco snaps, vanishing the flowers with a flick of his wand, stance weak against the sink.

“I do,” Harry insists. “Hermione brought this clunky book home about it. Said someone at the Ministry had it. She must’ve been talking about you,”

“Shut up,” Draco says, voice weak. “Shut up and... give me that vial,” He whispers and upon noticing Draco’s frail state, does as he had asked. Draco unscrews the cork with shaky hands and downs the pink liquid in one go, shivering after he had done so. It takes a few moments but Draco finally manages to regain enough strength to stand to his full height again. “Don’t tell anyone,” He mutters before leaving the bathroom and going back to his office.

The effects of the potion work it’s way into his system within the hour. His strength had come back but his throat was beyond itchy. His coughing was minimal but hives began collecting on his hands and neck. Draco squirms with discomfort but pushes through it until Hermione comes back into his office holding their shared Manila folder with excitement. All of her previous high spirits vanish as soon as she notices the Malfoy, however. “Draco,” She whispers. “What happened to you?”

“I took that bloody potion you gave me.” Draco says simply. “I told you the side effects weren’t worth it,” He pulls at the collar of his shirt, throat tightening and Hermione shoots him a concerned look. “Don’t worry about it,” Draco continues and bends down to grab a potion Hermione didn’t recognize out of the bottom desk drawer.

“What is that?” She questions and Draco rolls his eyes.

“An antidote for the side effects to that medicine. I came up with it myself,” He shrugs.

Although Hermione looks mildly impressed, she says, “You don’t have a license for that,”

“What’re you going to do? Report me?” Draco scoffs, downing the liquid in one quick swallow. “It wouldn’t matter much anyway. I’ll be dead within the year if this keeps up,” He shrugs.

“How do you know?” Hermione asks with wide eyes and Draco sighs heavily.

“I’m coughing up blood now,” He mutters, pointing a weak hand to the bin which held dozens of bloody flower petals. “I’m sure you’d even be able to tell me that’s not a good sign,”

Hermione stills where she stood, shocked. “What?” She whispers, wide eyed.

“I’m dying,” Draco says, shrugging. “I’ve come to accept it now,”

“After all you’ve been through you’re just going to give up?”

“Haven’t you been listening? There’s no cure, Hermione!” Draco says, louder than intended but angry all the same. “I thought you were smarter than this. I thought you’d get it. That you wouldn’t pity me. Because we’re not friends. You don’t know me. We’re acquaintances at best,”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care, Draco,” Hermione says, frowning and Draco sighs, frustrated.

“You shouldn’t,” Draco replies. “No one else does,”

“Surely someone has to,” Hermione murmurs and Draco shrugs.

“Pansy,” He says instantly. “She cares. She doesn’t pity me and she’s there for me. She respects my decision,”

“Your decision to die?” Hermione asks, fighting a scoff.

“My decision not to tell him about my feelings,” Draco clarifies sharply. “That wouldn’t be fair to him,”

Hermione pauses at this, unsure what to say. The boy was right to a point; his partner would nearly feel obligated to save his life but was he really being noble enough to not even try? “Just think about it, okay? I care about your wellbeing and, as you put it, we’re not even friends so... that should say something, shouldn’t it?” A long silence fills the air until it has Draco shifting uncomfortably again.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me when you came in here in the first place?” He can’t help but ask.

“Oh, it was a lead on our case,” Hermione grins, going into work mode once again. Draco hums softly and allows her closer to his desk. She spills the files out in front of them and the more she explains her theories the more they make sense. Draco is feeling incredibly satisfied by the time their shift ends and it’s time to go home.

“Do you want to have a celebratory drink at mine?” Draco asks hesitantly as they were packing up.

Hermione looks over at him with surprise but eventually nods at the suggestion. “Yes,” She says. “I’d like that,”

“Pansy will be there,” Draco says, remembering his plans with her. “You’re free to bring Potter or Weasley if you want,” He mutters and Hermione’s eyes brighten at this. “Great! Ron’s busy tonight. Stuck at the shop with George but I can grab Harry and we can go,”

Draco shifts uncomfortably at the mention of Harry’s name although he had brought up the suggestion on his own accord. Potter eyes Draco with worry when they meet at the Apparation point outside of the Ministry and Draco quickly shakes it off, having the two side along with him to his flat.

Pansy was already sat on Draco’s couch with a bottle of wine in hand when they arrive. She eyes the two guests with confusion and when Draco merely shrugs at her, she doesn’t mention it. “I’ll get more wine glasses,” She murmurs before leaving the room.

Draco allows Harry and Hermione to get comfortable on his couch and Draco shifts uncomfortably on his feet. He wasn’t sure what to do now apart from answer Potter’s question when he asks, “So what’s this all for?”

“Hermione and I finally cracked a case we’ve been working on for months,” He says, grinning. “She was extraordinary. Caught on to something I never would’ve thought to look back on,” Hermione had flushed lightly at Draco’s compliment but otherwise brushed it off. Harry was looking at Draco with surprise. “What?” Draco asks. “I am capable of handing out compliments when I think they’re appropriate, Potter. Or did you think otherwise?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“N-No,” Harry insists and Pansy enters the living room again with wine glasses placed skillfully between her hands.

“How many trips did it take you in order to keep from breaking them?” Draco teases, eyeing the glasses with amusement.

“Three. Give or take,” Pansy replies, shooting her friend a glare and sitting down beside him. She takes the wine off the coffee table and pours everyone a glass, sipping gingerly from her own. “So, what brings you both here?” She asks and Hermione provides the answer this time, taking small sips from her glass as she does.

Potter seems to want to do anything but drink which puzzles Draco. He’d seen Harry leave for the Leaky on multiple occasions after work so why was it stopping him now? Draco tries his best to shake this away and settles back into the furniture, nursing his glass. “Why’d you invite me tonight, Draco?” Harry asks with a raised eyebrow at the boy and Draco merely shrugs.

“I didn’t want Hermione feeling uncomfortable at my flat with just Pansy and me,” Draco shrugs as if it were simple.

“That was nice of you,” Harry says and Draco shrugs again before taking another sip of his wine.

“I can be nice when I want to be,” He laughs and Harry can’t help but smile at the sound of it.

The longer the night drags on, the more everyone seems to loosen up. They all had had multiple glasses of wine and were all feeling warm with spirits. Draco had always been a giggly drunk so when he was pleasantly buzzed, he’s a laughing mess at the slightest of jokes. Once, however, he laughs so hard, petals fall from his lips again. This causes everyone to quiet and for Draco to squirm uncomfortably. “More wine!” He slurs, vanishing the flowers and grabbing the second nearly empty wine bottle.

No one objects but it’s considerably more tense than moments previously. It was around midnight that Hermione insisted she and Harry turn in for the night. “I blocked out my Floo a while ago,” Draco admits with protest. “And there’s no way you’re Apparating home from what you’ve been drinking. So just stay the night! I’ve got an extra bed and couches!” He supplies and the two friends eye each other, unsure what to do. Not seeing any other option, however, they both nod. “I’ll get Harry something comfortable. Pans, you go find something for Hermione,”

The two Slytherins head off and are back within minutes. Draco holds out an old oversized Slytherin sweater and pajama pants, grinning. “You’re joking,” Harry whines at the Slytherin crest and the blond shakes his head, thrusting the clothes in Harry’s direction.

“Suit up, pretty boy,” He giggles before leaving the room.

Pansy, slightly more lucid than Draco, shows Potter the couch and sloppily transfigures the coffee table into a cot for Hermione. “Sleep well everyone!” She laughs before leaving the room to find Draco.

Harry and Hermione change clothes with sluggish fingers and slip into their beds wordlessly. It’s hours later that Potter comes across a problem. His stomach is churning with unease and he sprints off to Draco’s bathroom before getting sick. The blond shows up to his side minutes later and offers the boy a teasing grin. “Who gets ill over wine?” He snorts and Harry rolls his eyes.

“It’s still alcohol, you git,” He hisses before spitting into the toilet.

“Alright now, Potter?” Draco asks after a few moments of Harry being free of sick. The boy nods slowly and Draco continues. “As long as you promise not to puke on my sheets, you can sleep in my bedroom and I’ll take the couch,” He says and Harry nods groggily through knitted eyebrows.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Harry asks quietly and Draco tugs on the boy’s wrist to guide him.

“Here,” Malfoy says and leads him onto the mattress. Harry, however doesn’t let go of Draco and the blond goes tumbling on top of him. “Harry, what the fuck,” Draco whispers with the smallest grin into the darkness.

“I might still be a little drunk,” Harry giggles. “I also think you’re very cute,” He confesses and Draco feels himself go red, glad Potter couldn’t see.

“Shut up and go to bed, Harry,”

“Will you stay with me?” Potter asks and after a few moment’s hesitation, Draco nods.

“If you’d like me to,” He murmurs and Harry nods, burrowing his face into the crook of the blond’s neck.

“I’d like that a lot,” Harry admits and Draco sighs before allowing Potter to wrap his arms around the boy’s middle and drifting off to sleep.

“Eggs?” Draco offers from his place in front of the stove, breakfast sizzling in the frying pan the next morning.

“Sure,” Harry says, ruffling his mussed up hair with tanned fingers. He plops down in one of Draco’s kitchen chairs and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes which were vacant of his glasses. “My head hurts,” He admits quietly and Draco chuckles at the confession.

He moves to the top cabinet and grabs a vial from the many stored there. “Take this,” He orders. “It’s a hangover potion,” Harry nods gratefully and takes it in one swallow.

“Thanks,” Harry says as Draco presents a plate of skillfully prepared breakfast in front of him. “Where’re Hermione and Pansy?”

“Work,” Draco shrugs. “I was up before the left and decided to take the day off. They asked for me to owl in for you too,”

“I-- You-- Draco, I haven’t owled in in months,” Harry stammers although doesn’t look all too upset.

“Oh well,” Draco grins before tucking into his eggs and bacon. Silence laps over them slowly and the two dig into their meals in the hopes of mending their hangovers.

“What do you want to do now?” Harry asks once their plates were clean.

Draco thinks carefully. “I could show you my potions lab,” He says hesitantly and Harry raises an eyebrow at this.

“You have a potions lab in your flat?”

“Downstairs,” Draco scoffs and Harry merely grins.

“Right,” He chuckles before the two get up and Draco shows the dark haired boy his getaway. “Wow,” Harry gasps at the sight of it, wide eyed.

Draco merely chuckles at this. “I know,” He says quietly before moving across the room and waiting for Harry to follow.

“What’re all these?” He asks, pointing to the silver vials with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s uh,” Draco begins quietly. “It’s the antidote to that potion that you saw me take the other day. It helps with the side effects,” He shrugs.

“I didn’t know there was an antidote for that,” Harry says with slight confusion.

“There isn’t. Or... not a registered one. I brewed this myself,” Draco says, trying to come off as humble as possible.

“Wow,” Harry says again and Draco merely rolls his eyes. “How’d you manage to smuggle a whole potions lab in your flat?” He asks as he continues to walk around the room, eyeing certain potions curiously.

“Practice,” Draco says teasingly, watching Potter with slight insecurity. He had only ever shown Pansy this before.

“Practice?” Harry snorts with laughter and Draco nods, grinning.

“Yes,” He says and Harry merely laughs again, white teeth showing behind cherry lips. “C’mon,” Draco prompts a half hour later, feeling considerably more naked after Potter had picked through his whole lab. “Let’s go back upstairs,”

“And do what?” Harry asks and Draco shrugs, fighting off a blush.

“Dunno,” He murmurs. “Watch a movie?”

“Since when do you know what movies are?” Harry snorts and Draco shrugs again.

“Pansy and I watched one once. We came across something in Muggle London called a Redbox? Anyway, we didn’t have one of those credit cards so we had to pay with actual Muggle money. We got--” He moves past Harry to the TV the boy hadn’t noticed the night before, to grab a small stack of movies from the entertainment system, smiling softly. “This movie,” He continues, holding up a copy of Deadpool and Harry’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“This movie of all movies?” He asks and Draco nods, falling back against his couch.

“It’s really funny! I laughed until my stomach hurt the first time I saw it. Not to mention that main actor is very hot,” The last part comes out a hushed confession yet Harry hears it all the same, watching the boy’s face go hot afterward.

“Didn’t know you were interested in boys, Malfoy,” Harry says and Draco merely shrugs, the action small and timid.

“Yes well, nearly everyone else does,” He mutters, slipping in the DVD. “Now are we going to watch this movie or not?”

Harry settles down beside Malfoy, resting his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Draco stiffens at this at first before settling into the boy’s arms as the movie goes on, eventually curling into the crook of his body, Harry playing with the delicate blond strands of his hair as it continues. The two end up falling asleep far before the credits roll and when Draco wakes up the next morning, he hadn’t coughed flower petals once and counted this as a good sign. Maybe he’d make it through the year after all. Well, if Potter continued to make heart eyes at him every chance he got, anyway.


	11. Kaleidoscope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco's eyes change colour according to his emotions and Harry is determined to figure out each one.

Draco’s eyes were a kaleidoscope of colours. Harry watched them change for the first time after a Quidditch match. The two teams had been neck and neck and Gryffindor had just managed to scrape by by a hair. He sees Malfoy stomp off to the changing rooms, shooting Harry a red eyed glare and the dark haired boy’s jaw nearly hits the floor. The blond’s eyes, which has always been a stormy grey were now blazing red and Harry was completely flabbergasted.

When the Gryffindor had caught sight of Draco again hours later, his eyes had been back to their regular mercury and Harry had tried convincing himself that he had just been seeing things. But then it happened again two days later.

Draco’s eyes had gone green, seemingly from embarrassment when a Ravenclaw has tripped Draco in front of everyone in the Great Hall. The colour was deep emerald, somewhat similar to Harry’s own before switching to the same angry red he had last witnessed. “What the hell,” He snaps and upon seeing the unnatural shade of the Slytherin’s eyes, the Ravenclaw quickly backs off from the blond. “Got nothing to say now, do you?” Draco snaps, shaking with fury.

All other students were frozen with shock and Harry’s Gryffindor bravery kicks in after noticing everyone else’s cowardice. “Draco, c’mon, let’s go. He’s not worth it,”

“Who do you think you are, Potter? Leave me alone,” Draco hisses, snatching his arm back when Potter had subconsciously grabbed it.

“I’m trying to help,” Harry says sharply at Draco’s hostile tone.

“I don’t need your help,” Draco says instantly and Harry rolls his eyes.

“Bullshit,” He says. “Now come on,” Harry’s tone is firm and Draco stills at the sound of it, not having expected that from him. Harry pulls Draco up like a rag doll and the two leave the Great Hall with all eyes on them.

“What the hell,” Draco snaps as Harry says, “What’s going on with you?” And simultaneously shooting identical glares in the others direction.

“Nothing is going on with me,” Draco speaks up with a scowl.

“You’re a horrible liar, Malfoy. Everyone can see what’s happening with your eyes!” Harry yells, hands clenched at his sides, frustrated.

Draco seemingly pales at this. “Shite,” He murmurs, coloured eyes shifting down from Harry’s.

“So what’s up?” Harry asks, softer this time and Draco shrugs insecurely.

“Some seventh years hexed me with something I’ve never heard of before. It... It makes my eyes change colour to my emotions and it’s humiliating and I hate it. No matter what I do I can’t find any cure,”

“How long has this been going on?” Harry asks, curious.

“A few weeks at least. I figured if it were to go away it would’ve happened by now so I’m not sure if it ever will,” Harry seemed puzzled by this and Draco trudges on before he could reply. “I’ve done as much research as I can. Stayed in the library all night but not much has helped,” His voice comes out small, filled with self deprecation and loathing which breaks Harry’s heart.

“Well, I think it’s cool,” The dark haired boy says with a playful grin and Draco rolls his eyes, unamused. 

“Sure, if it’s not happening it you,” He scoffs. “But if you’re the one whose emotions are constantly on display it’s not nearly as cool, Potter,” 

Harry frowns at this, not having realized the seriousness of the situation until moments previously. That must be as unfortunate as Draco was making it seem. “Maybe there’s something I can do,” Harry says and when Draco points out there wouldn’t be much Potter could do that he hadn’t done, Harry felt at a complete loss. “I don’t want you suffering,” He says quietly and Draco merely shrugs. 

“I’m not suffering. It’s just a troubling circumstance,” Draco sighs, kicking the tile beneath his feet with faux casualty that Harry saw right through. 

“I don’t think you should be ashamed of it,” Harry murmurs and grabs Draco’s hand in his own, surprising them both. Yet Draco doesn’t let go. 

“I hate it,” Draco mutters, not meeting Harry’s eyes, paying much more attention to their locked fingers instead. 

“It makes you unique,” Harry points out. “Gives people something else to talk about,” He continues and when Draco looks up, he finds Harry’s gaze stuck on his dark mark hidden behind his long shirt sleeve. 

“You’re right,” He realizes and Harry grins cheekily, proud he had finally pulled one up on Malfoy. “Don’t get cocky now,” The blond scoffs. “That still doesn’t fix this bloody hex on me,” 

Harry’s smile falters slightly. “You’re right,” He says and Draco sighs, running his free hand through his hair. 

“Maybe...” He begins hesitantly. “Maybe you could come up to my dorm and... Help me look through the textbooks. It gets dry and I’m sure I may have missed things just looking at it on my own,” Draco finishes lamely, blushing a light pink and Harry’s smile widens again. 

“I’d love that,” Harry says and Draco smiles as well, tugging on the dark haired boy’s hand up to his dorm room. It was neat, everything having a proper place and this doesn’t surprise Harry at all. Draco prompts Harry to sit on his bed while he collected his textbooks from his desk and Harry does, staring down at his shoes, unsure what to do with himself until Malfoy drops a large textbook into his lap. 

“It’s a bit overwhelming, I know,” The blond says before Harry could comment. “But I’m not able to read all of these textbooks on my own and absorb all the information correctly,” He sighs, sounding defeated and Harry shoots him a reassuring glance. 

“We’ll figure it out,” He responds, tone noticeably lighter than Draco’s. 

“But Harry, I’ve been working on this for we--” 

“Shut up,” Harry cuts him off, eyes narrowed. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep beating yourself up about it and telling yourself you can’t do it,” Malfoy is stunned with surprise, not believing Potter was currently telling him off for being such a whiny little shit. “Hermione taught me that,” Harry shrugs, slightly uncomfortable under Draco’s eye. 

“Interesting,” Draco murmurs before turning back to his own textbook and cracking it open to a dogeared page, quickly concentrating on that instead. Harry tries doing the same but was unable to focus; all he could think about was the fact that he was currently sitting in Draco Malfoy’s bedroom, on his mattress where he slept among... other things. The thought of Malfoy doing such dirty things in this very bed causes Harry to go a deep shade of red. “What?” Draco asks with furrowed eyebrows at Harry’s flustered state. “Did you find something?”

“I-- Um-- Oh, no,” Harry stammers, looking anywhere but at Draco, wanting nothing more than to flee and hide the fact that he was sporting a semi at the mere thought of Draco touching his prick.

“Then what is it?” Draco asks and Harry shifts where he sat, trying to hide his hard on behind the textbook. Unfortunately, Malfoy notices. “What’s going on down there, Potter?” He asks seductively, facial features soft and curious, unlike how they had been moments previously. 

“N-Nothing,” The tan wizard denies, shutting his eyes tight yet yelps with surprise when he feels Draco’s lips on his neck, kissing and licking the delicate skin as if to claim his territory. 

“Oh really?” Draco wonders daftly, eyebrow raised and grinning widely. “Interesting,” He knocks the book from Potter’s lap, his hard on now on full display. “I can only wonder what this is,” He murmurs and straddles the boy then, applying the slightest bit of friction to his prick. 

“Malfoy,” Harry whispers, biting back a whimper and Draco only chuckles. 

“What is it, Potter? Tell me what you want,” He prompts, grin never leaving his face. 

“I want...” Harry begins but wasn’t really sure what exactly what it was that he wanted. “I want you to kiss me,” He finally admits and without a moment’s hesitation, Malfoy does, unashamed at his eagerness. He moves his hand down to Potter’s cock, strained in his boxers and just as he was about to slip under the thin material, the door to his room opens and Luna walks inside, looking as clueless as ever. 

“Oh fuck--” Draco hisses, falling from Harry’s lap and onto the ground with a thud. Harry’s eyes widen and he moves to help Draco from the floor, momentarily ignoring Luna completely until she speaks. 

“I heard about the hex, Draco,” She says dreamily, having not noticed their flustered state at all. “You seemed to miss this book. It’s very useful, actually,” She holds up another book, the thickness able to give Hogwarts a History a run for it’s money. “It talks all about your hex although... there’s no real way to reverse it. I’m sorry, Draco,” She says and Draco merely clears his throat, shifting in his robes to hide the erection he too, had sported. 

“Oh uh-- That’s alright. I’ll live,” He rasps, pushing his hair from his face and it’s only then that Harry notices the colour of his eyes; a dark pink, nearly similar to the red he had seen on multiple occasions. Harry had only one guess at the reason behind it; lust and Merlin was he dying to witness it every chance he got.


	12. Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco owns a candle shop selling Amortentia infused candles and Harry can't help but wonder why it smells a bit too much like the store owner.

When Harry walks into Scentsations, the tan wizard grins at the pun. The shop was one that made specific scents that caused a mix of sensations the buyers would experience. Scentsations had just begun to grow in popularity as soon as the owner had released their Amortentia candles which had quickly become a hit. Harry, of course, had been intrigued at the concept. 

He and Hermione stood in the middle of the shop in awe. It wasn’t nearly as packed as it had been hours before; it was late afternoon now and the duo had arrived tarty in order to avoid it. “Wow,” Hermione gapes and Harry chuckles. This was the first time in a while he had seen Hermione so blown away.

“Yeah, wow,” The dark haired boy agrees and walks around the shop, Hermione trailing behind him. The Amortentia section was much larger than the rest, most likely because of the high demand of the product and Harry skims his hand over each one. Tea lights, candle sticks, tins, mason jars; the range of options seemed limitless and Harry can’t help but be impressed with the owner’s dedication. 

“How can I help you two today?” He hears someone ask, voice all too familiar. 

Harry pivots quickly, coming face to face with Draco Malfoy. “I-- We-- We were just--” 

“Looking at your new candles,” Hermione cuts in to take away from Potter’s flustered state. She shoots him a confused glance when Malfoy moves to assist them and Harry shrugs, fighting a blush. 

“As you can see, I have quite a few options you can choose from.” Draco begins, flicking a wrist at the large portion of the merchandise. “But I also offer other candles that are new, although they’re not Amortentia. They’re located over there if you’d like to have a look,” The blond continues with a flick of his wrist again, this time in the opposite direction of were they stood and Hermione gives a nod as Harry continues to gawk at the slim wizard. 

“What’s the most popular size?” Hermione asks.

“They range in price, of course,” Draco says. “The most popular so far has been the tins but it varies on the buyer,” 

“How did you do it?” 

Draco raises an eyebrow at Hermione. “Wouldn’t be very fun for me if I told you, would it, Granger?” He laughs and Hermione rolls her eyes. Harry figured it wouldn’t be all too hard to produce; they had brewed the potion back in their last year at Hogwarts but surely it took not only weeks of brewing but also experimentation with the ratios between wax and potion. “Were you planning on buying today or just having a look around?” 

Harry fingers the Galleons deep in the pocket of his cloak and nods. “I think buying,” He says, Hermione nodding soon after him. 

“I’ll give you a bit of time to decide. Call for me if you need anything else,” Draco insists before moving past Harry and back up to the front of the store. Harry stands stiff for a moment, shocked at the overwhelming scent of cedar, mint and broomstick polish, red faced. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Hermione asks softly after picking up a tea light and giving it a sniff. 

“It reeks of Malfoy in here and for the first time in my life, I wish I didn’t know the reason why,” Harry says, absentmindedly grabbing the mason jar and heading up to the front counter to pay.

*** 

Potter lit the candle with a match, settling down on his couch and glaring into the flame. Stupid Malfoy with his stupid candles and his stupid... scent. 

Hermione told him it wasn’t a big deal that Draco had been the name behind the scent but this wasn’t exactly the way he was planning on coming out to her. He had planned on doing so in a more subtle manner rather than “Hey, ‘Mione, just wanted to mention I’m highly attracted to a boy. Malfoy to be exact and didn’t realize until we stepped into his bloody candle shop. But like, don’t freak out or anything.” 

The boy groans and rubs his eyes harshly from behind his glasses. Today had been long and Harry wished he had never stepped into that shop in the first place. After Harry had confessed to Hermione, his friend had insisted on telling him what hers smelt like as well; toothpaste, freshly cut grass and Ron’s hair. This was far less shocking than Harry’s, of course but Harry offered her a soft smile anyway, glad she hadn’t completely lost it when she found out as he knew Ron would.

Hermione had insisted Ron wouldn’t blow his top at the news but Harry was doubtful. Hermione had a tendency to stretch the truth in order to calm Harry’s nerves. 

Harry was irritated with himself. Of all people it had to be Malfoy he was attracted to. For Merlin’s sake, he figured after defeating the Dark Lord the world would give him a bit of a break. What naive thinking. 

Luna Lovegood stumbles out of Harry’s kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand, settling down beside him and handing over the piping cup. “I put marshmallows in,” She says, grinning dreamily and Harry nods, taking a sip and grimacing when it burns his tastebuds. “It smells like honeysuckle, fresh air and broomsticks in here,” She tells him once she had settled down. Harry doesn’t ask what fresh air smelt like, only hums softly and offers her a small smile. “What does yours smell like, Harry?” 

“Cedar, mint and broomstick polish,” Harry says, as he had told Hermione. 

“Do you know who that is? I think mine is Ginny,” Luna says softly with a far off smile.

Chuckling lightly, Harry offers a smile as well, although his wasn’t nearly as genuine. “Draco Malfoy,” He murmurs into his mug and Luna’s eyes brighten at his confession. 

“Oh that’s lovely, Harry,” She says, grinning wider than ever. 

“Is it?” Harry snorts. “I wasn’t exactly planning on coming out to everyone like this,” He sighs before looking down at his lap insecurely. “What do you think his smells like?” The boy whispers. 

“Like you, of course,” Luna says matter of factly. “We had to brew Amortentia for our NEWTs for our last year, remember? Draco kept telling me it smelt like you before we were given the instructions. He’s not very good at hiding it,” The blond girl says thoughtfully. 

“He said that?” Harry blushes and Luna nods wildly from her mug of hot cocoa, enthusiastic. 

“Yes,” She confirms and Harry squirms with a fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Well, thanks Luna,” He grins and the girl merely hums in response, tucking her wand behind her ear and flicking on his TV. Sitting back on the couch, Harry formulated a plan.

*** 

“So Draco, what’s Amortentia smell like to you?” Harry asks two evenings later back in Draco’s candle shop, mere minutes before close. 

“Can’t quite place the smell,” Draco shrugs nonchalantly as he counts the cash in his register, not meeting Potter’s gaze. 

“Well surely you must since you’re constantly brewing it,” Harry pushes and Draco shrugs again, not weakening under his stare. 

“No,” He says before shutting the register and moving around Harry to straighten up. Harry watches Draco flick his wand at various brooms and dusters, fascinated at the effortlessness of it all although he had watched Molly do it thousands of times. 

“Draco,” Harry murmurs, taking three long strides closer to the boy. “A little birdy told me exactly who you think it smells like,” 

Draco freezes at Harry’s words and after a sharp intake of breath, manages to shake himself out. “Yeah?” He challenges. “What exactly did they say?” 

“That it was me,” Harry whispers into the shell of Draco’s ear and the blond shivers with arousal at the rough and accusatory words. “So tell me, Draco. Were they right?” He continues and begins kissing down the boy’s neck. 

“Y-Yes,” Draco chokes, frozen with Harry pressed up against him. “And yours? What does it smell like?” He asks softly although he had a feeling he already knew the answer. 

“Take a guess,” Harry murmurs but the way Potter was holding tight to Draco’s hips and the way he fastened his teasing lips to his neck, the blond didn’t need to.

“Me,” Draco murmurs, blushing a deep pink underneath the bright lights. 

Harry grins wide and kisses down Draco’s neck again. “Right you are,” He whispers against the wide expanse of skin. 

“Who told you?” Draco asks quietly once the two had pulled apart. He had conjured a mirror and had begun healing the hickeys Harry had left on his neck. The bastard. 

“Luna,” Harry confesses and Draco groans. 

“Merlin, of course,” He sighs before smiling slightly. “I suppose it didn’t cause too much harm,” Draco continues before looking up from healing the bruises to flash another smile in Harry’s direction. 

The dark haired wizard sports a grin of his own and kisses Draco again. “Suppose not,” He chuckles, glad how things had finally played out.


	13. Azure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco cuts and dyes his hair and Harry can't help but notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this one is rather short, this one shot is one of my favorites. Enjoy x

Harry hadn’t expected Draco to listen when he had made a jab at his hair. The two had been bickering, that was to be expected but when Harry had told him that his hair looked nearly identical to his father’s, the boy had gone stone faced and flipping Potter off before leaving the room. The blond hadn’t been to the rest of his classes and Harry hadn’t seen much of him at all until the next morning.

He finds Draco sitting at the Slytherin table, chewing on beans and toast beside Pansy, watching her ramble with a small grin. That hadn’t been what shocked Harry, however. The shorter wizard was seemingly floored by the fact that Draco had cut his hair and dyed it a sky blue. It was now pushed up into a lazy quiff, coloured strands standing proudly away from his face and bringing attention to his eyes. They were a sort of washed out silver that before now never made a big deal of itself.

And Harry couldn’t stop staring.

“Problem, Potter?” Draco asks with a raised eyebrow after wiping his mouth, smirking.

“No,” Harry says, pivoting quick on his heel to stumble over to the Gryffindor table. His friends hadn’t seemed to notice his behavior although a rather obvious tint painted his cheeks. Harry couldn’t help but steal glances at the Slytherin table all throughout breakfast, cringing each time Draco caught his gaze.

Draco had tried his best to keep Potter from his thoughts. That boy wasn’t worth his trouble and yet… Harry seemed to take over his subconscious all because of his bloody staring. He couldn’t help but obsess over whether or not Potter liked his hair but had too much pride to ask.

“Don’t piss your pants over it,” Pansy laughs, pug face pinched with amusement. 

“Sod off, Pans. Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed you making heart eyes at Granger,” Draco grins when his friend goes bright red and shoots him a glare.

The rest of the night comes quickly. Pansy plays with his coloured hair and Draco watches Harry glance at him from across the common room. He still tried not thinking much of it but couldn’t help the amusement that bubbles up in his throat each time Draco caught him.

“What?” Draco can’t help but ask the third day into the change. Potter sat at his side in potions, as he always would and couldn’t keep his eyes off him. As usual. 

“Nothing,” Harry insists and Draco rolls his light eyes.

“Honestly Potter, what do you take me for? An idiot?” Draco snaps, quill held tight in his grip, having been copying down Slughorn’s notes moments before.

“No! Of course not!” Harry says in a fierce whisper. “I just… Your hair is so different,” He says stupidly and Draco chuckles as he dips his quill into his ink pot, having gone back to taking down notes in his pristine broken cursive.

“Not much like my fathers now, eh?” He murmurs, blowing fallen fringe from his face.

“Not at all,” Harry agrees quietly, admiring Draco’s hair again. From far off it merely looked a light blue but up close, Harry noticed it was spelled to fade from different shades of azure. “And I… I like it a lot, Draco,” He admits, blushing.

“Sorry? I don’t think I heard you,” The talker wizard says just to spite him. “Was that… Was that a compliment, Potter?”

“Yes,” Harry says, no longer willing to beat around the bush. “I think you look fucking hot with that new hair. Is that what you wanted to hear, Malfoy?” He questions lowly. Class is dismissed moments later and Harry bolts from his seat before Draco has a chance to reply.

Malfoy barely manages to get through the rest of his classes without hunting Potter down and ask him who the bloody hell he thought he was, flustering him like that. Scoffing with obvious frustration, Draco storms into the eighth year dormitory with fiery eyes. Upon spotting Potter sitting with Granger and Weasley, he saunters over and yanks Harry up from his chair by his robes. “I need to talk to you,” He growls.

Ron stands from his chair, wand raised the moment Draco had grabbed hold of Harry’s clothing. “Oi. Get your hands off him, Malfoy,” The red haired boy snaps and Draco shoots him a fierce glare.

“What’ll you do otherwise, Weasley?” Draco taunts, unfazed by the the boy’s raised wand. “Hex me? Doubtful,”

“You slimy little—“

“Ron, leave it,” Harry says dismissively. “I’m sure it’s nothing. C’mon, Draco. Let’s get this over with if you’re so intent on speaking with me,”

“Who do you think you are? Having the nerve to—“ Draco begins as they had made it back to Harry’s room.

“What? Flirt with you? Oh how dare I,” Harry cuts him off, grinning.

Draco sneers at Harry, seemingly unamused. “You made me look like a flustered idiot the rest of the day, Potter,” Draco snaps, glaring at him, unaware of how close they were until Harry traces over Draco’s high cheekbones with a feather light touch.

“I never figured I had that affect on you,” Harry murmurs, voice hushed in the shell of Draco’s ear.

“Fuck you,” Draco says, seemingly so passionate his coloured hair falls in front of his face. Harry can’t help but reach out to push the strands from his light eyes and Draco stiffens, surprised at the contact but doesn’t stop him. “Potter...” He murmurs, voice low and confused. “What’re you playing at?” 

Harry can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the lanky Slytherin. “You really want to find out?” 

“Yes,” Draco whispers hesitantly. He watches Harry near closer, lips a feather light touch away from meeting. Unable to handle the anticipation, Draco connects their lips, finding Potter’s to be soft and full, nothing like he imagined. Harry cups Draco’s cheeks in his hands, thumbs caressing the contours of his face in a way Draco would learn to love. 

“Is that answer enough for you, Malfoy?” Harry asks, voice hushed and the blond nods, blushing slightly. 

“For now,” He says casually yet feels anything but. 

Harry chuckles softly, running a hand through Draco’s hair and the blue haired boy merely grins before peppering Harry’s face in kisses. “Quit it, idiot,” Harry laughs, swatting Draco away weakly and the taller boy only rolls his eyes. 

“You like it,” He says simply and Harry has to fight off a blush of his own. 

“Possibly,” Harry says which causes another eye roll from Draco. 

“Alright, pretty boy,” He snickers and Harry scowls, capturing Draco’s mouth on his again and Draco wraps his arms around the boy, not wanting to be anywhere else.


	14. Dares*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco dares Harry to wank in front of him and Harry can't back down from the challenge.

"Hmm," Draco hums, palm cupping his chin as he thinks. "I dare you to... wank in front of me," He finishes, grinning devilishly.

Harry's eyebrows just about hit his hairline. He definitely wasn't expecting that. "U-Um, what?" He stammers, pulling at the collar of his shirt, suddenly all too warm.

"You heard me, pretty boy. Take off those boxers and put your hands to good use," Draco urges him, eyes flicking down to the boy's sleek black boxers which clung to his muscular thighs deliciously. He had been dared to take off his jeans several turns ago and was hoping he didn't need to rid himself of any other articles of clothing. Apparently he was wrong.

Harry feels his face flush crimson and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die. "Draco--" He begins but the blond tuts disapprovingly.

"We agreed to accepting every dare we were given no questions asked when we began this game, didn't we, Potter?" Draco grins, loving being able to watch the green eyed boy squirm.

"I never said anything this vile to you!" Harry snaps causing the taller boy to shrug.

"And whose fault is that?" He chuckles.

"Prat," Harry mutters, sending the boy a glare to which Draco simply crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he waits.

"Get to it, Potter,"

With a final huff, Harry hesitantly pulls away the thin cotton, pushing the black material down his thighs and pretends he didn't feel Draco's gaze on his flaccid dick. He then grabs his wand which was placed on top of his denim jeans at his side and mutters a quick lubrication charm; shaking with nerves as he begins to stroke himself, praying Draco didn't notice. He never did anything like this with anyone. When Harry jerked off, it was usually in the shower or the privacy of his dorm room so this was untouched territory.

The short boy feels his face turn an even deeper shade of red as he starts to get hard and tries his best to forget that Draco was in the room. But how would he be able to ignore an incredibly attractive Slytherin? He somehow manages to focus on keeping his noises to a minimum as he finds a steady rhythm, lip trapped between his teeth but soon Draco says, "Let me hear you,"

Harry takes a cautious look at the blond and grunts, "That wasn't a part of the dare," trying to ignore the way Draco was undeniably turned on which only made this whole situation that much more intense.

"C'mon, Harry. Let me hear those pretty moans," The silver eyed boy says, every so convincing and the mere voice of his name passing the boy's lips causes Harry to let off the smallest whimper. Draco had never called him by his first name before.

A few moments pass and Harry's moans get progressively louder. He feels himself edging closer and closer to orgasm with each jerk of his hand and nearly comes when he locks eyes with Draco who was currently rutting against the fabric of his clothes. "Merlin, touch yourself before you cream your robes like a prepubescent Hufflepuff," Harry chokes.

Draco lets off a strangled laugh but doesn't need to be told twice. Both his robes and boxers were off faster than Harry could say Quidditch which causes him to laugh through ripples of arousal at the sight of Draco's cock. It was thicker than he had been expecting, a pretty pink with pearls of precum slicking the head and lubricating Draco's pale fist. "Fuck," Harry whispers as he watches Draco shut his eyes tight as he finds a steady pace.

"This is your dare, not mine," Draco says tersely as he shoots Harry a glare, realizing the boy had stopped stroking himself, too wrapped up in the blond.

"Right," Harry mutters, averting his attention to his stiff cock. He wraps a tanned hand around it, frowning. His was nowhere near as pretty as Draco's.

"2 galleons says you come before I do," Draco whimpers which causes Harry to raise an eyebrow.

"You're on," Harry says and the two awkwardly shake each other's left hands, not wanting to take their right off their cocks. The two were never ones to back down from a challenge.

Draco then makes a show of moaning, knowing it turned Harry on and fondles his balls with his free hand. Harry couldn't get himself to look away.

It's when Draco lubes up his other hand and eases two fingers into his entrance, one after the other, that Harry nearly loses it. He watches as Draco's mouth falls open, eyebrows furrowed in undeniable pleasure as the loudest moan yet leaves his lips and he rocks back against his hand until he bottoms out on his fingers completely. "Y-you're doing this on purpose!" Harry finally realizes which causes the smallest of smiles to flutter across Draco's face.

"Dunno what you're talking about," He denies in a slurred mumble as he continues to finger himself open, both hands working expertly to push him to climax.

Harry, however, felt as if he was going to burst. Precum dribbled from his pink tip and spilled over his fingers, orgasm a tense wire in the pit of his stomach, begging to be set free. "Fuck," He groans and next thing he knows, he's coming, harder than he ever had before and it's all because of Draco fucking Malfoy.

The blond climaxes moments after, grinning triumphantly and says, "I win," with the utmost arrogance. This doesn't surprise Harry in the slightest, but what does is the way Draco was staring intensely at his lips. He nears closer to the dark haired boy and before Harry realizes what he was saying, he says, "I dare you to kiss me," so Draco does.


	15. Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry gets a kitten for his shared flat and Draco doesn't seem to mind too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a little prompt someone on Tumblr sent me ((You can find me on Tumblr at lovelylanden if you're curious!)) that I rather enjoyed. Sorry it's a little shorter than usual. Much love x

The front door to Harry and Draco’s flat opens with a creak and shuts loudly. Draco slips off his shoes and rests them in a neat line against the wall, setting his briefcase down on the kitchen island before the realization that the house is far too quiet hits him. “Harry?” He calls, lurking farther into the house. 

He passes both the living room and bathroom, turning into their bedroom when a sharp crash breaks through the silence. Wide eyed, Draco takes out his wand, raised steadily in front of him and turns swiftly toward the noise before being met with a smokey grey kitten. “What the hell,” He mutters, lowering his wand and putting out his hand. 

The kitten pauses, unsure of Draco’s intentions before reaching out to sniff the boy’s palm. The animal purrs loudly, rubbing up against his skin and Draco would’ve found it utterly adorable if it wasn’t for the fact that he had no idea where the cat had come from.

“How’d you get here?” Draco asks softly before surveying the room. The crash, he quickly finds out, came from a picture frame the cat must’ve knocked over. Draco repairs it with a flick of his wand and sets it back on the nightstand, eyeing the kitten curiously. 

Hurried footsteps down the hall alert Draco once again and his wand is back out within seconds. The doorknob twists and just as Draco is about to cast a stunning spell, he recognizes Harry in front of him, hands up with surprise. “Didn’t know you’d be home early,” Harry says and Draco scowls, lowering his wand. 

“What is this?” He asks, motioning to the cat behind his suited back. 

“What?” Harry asks stupidly. 

“This cat, Harry. What the hell,”

“Oh yeah,” Harry says, grinning at the blond. “Isn’t she cute?” He coos, ignoring Draco’s glare. 

“No— Okay, yes but Harry, this is a huge commitment. Who do you think you are making big decisions like this without me? What a pain in the ass!“ 

Harry, who had gone to pick up the kitten from behind Draco, smiles guiltily again. “Love, I’m so sorry! I just had to. Hermione and I were at a pet shop, she wanted to get something for her apartment with Ron and well… I fell in love with this one,” 

“So you adopted a cat without me…” Draco finished slowly and Harry nods sheepishly. “Well… What’s it’s name then?” He asks, gripping the bridge of his nose tightly. 

“She,” Harry corrects quickly. “Her name is Halley,” 

“Like the comet?” Draco asks quizzically and Harry nods, blushing slightly. 

“She didn’t have a name when I adopted her from the shelter and I figured… Draco… a constellation of stars. Halley… a comet… They’re both space things,” 

“And you’re just Harry. No relation,” Draco laughs, moving closer to rub the kitten’s ears. “It’s stupid but… I like it,” He decides and takes the cat from Harry’s arms into his own. “I only have one rule,” He continues and Harry eyes him curiously. “The cat can’t be in the room when we fuck,” 

At this, Harry doubles over with laughter. “Done,” He grins, kissing his boyfriend lightly. The two lay back on their bed with the kitten on Draco’s chest, booping her nose and watching her chase her tail. 

Draco had been all for the idea ever since.


	16. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry gives himself up to Voldemort and Draco's heart is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen oneshots like this written in the past and I absolutely LIVE FOR THEM so I wanted to give it a try. Much love and enjoy x

“Where is he?” Draco asks, eyes wild as he takes in Ron and Hermione huddled together at the bottom of the main flight of stairs. “Where’s Harry?” He repeats once he was greeted with silence.

“We don’t know,” Hermione admits quietly, brown eyes trained on the rubble at her feet, not meeting Draco’s gaze. “He didn’t tell us,”

“He didn’t—“ Draco begins incredulously, face paling.

“He probably went to give himself up,” Ron mutters, finally piecing it together, biting his split lip. “What’s it matter to you, anyway?” He jerks his chin at the dark mark on Draco’s forearm with a glare but the blond pays it little mind.

“There’s one last thing I need to tell him,” Draco admits softly, trembling with nerves.

“What is it?” Hermione asks curiously, finally taking the time to look up at him.

“I need to tell him that— That I love him,” Draco whispers, feeling tears well in his eyes. He tries his best to blink them away as Ron and Hermione stare with shock. “So now I need to go find him before it’s too late,” He leaves before the two could stop him but feels their eyes on his back as he goes.

Once Draco had made it out of the castle and into the fresh, cooling air, he breaks into a sprint. Had Harry made it deep enough into the forest to where Draco wouldn’t be able to stop him?

Draco makes it to the outskirts of the forest when he spots him. “Harry!” He shouts, heart beating fiercely in his chest as he nears closer. “Harry, stop! Please!” He begs and it’s the total desperation in Malfoy’s voice that causes Harry to turn.

“What?” Harry asks, sounding tired.

“You— You can’t go in there. You can’t give yourself up,” Draco babbles, hands shaking violently as he stands there, atmosphere thick and tense between them. “Please,” He says again.

“Why do you care? This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?” Harry asks and Draco shakes his head quickly, blond hair falling into his eyes.

“No. Never,” Draco says, voice trembling, much like his hands he had since balled into fists. The blond knew why Harry was angry. He knew Potter felt betrayed when he had left Hogwarts to join his parents back at the Manor but he didn’t truly understand. He needed them. He loved them. But he needed and loved Harry too. “Harry, please listen to me,” He pleads.

Harry lets off a deep, rugged breath and nods curtly. “Fine. But I don’t have much time,”

The knot in Draco’s chest loosens slightly. He was willing to listen. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done,” He begins. “I’m ashamed of myself but my parents... I couldn’t leave them,” His voice wavers as tears collect in his grey eyes. They always reminded Harry of melted steel and he had fallen in love with them ages ago. “They mean everything to me but... but you mean everything to me too,”

Harry’s gaze softens slightly at this before hardening again, so quickly Draco was convinced he imagined it. “I don’t have time for this. You made your choice and now I’ve made mine,”

The tone of his voice marks his words final and draws the conversation to a close. He turns his back on Draco and the Slytherin makes a lightening quick grab at the boy’s wrist. “Harry, please,”

Harry snatches his wrist back and shoots Draco a nasty glare which causes something in Malfoy’s chest to shatter. No matter what he did he couldn’t change Harry’s mind. Without a word, Harry straightens up and leaves Draco where he stood, wandering farther into the forest and closer to his death. Once he had been engulfed in a thick coupling of trees and out of sight, the tears finally spill down Draco’s cheeks, knees betraying him as he falls to the ground, sobbing in total desperation. He had lost Harry and there was no way he would ever get him back.

Minutes or hours pass, it was too hard for Draco to tell which as he pulls himself up out of the grass, slacks dark with mud but he pays it no mind as he stumbles back to the castle. He was determined now more than ever to show Harry he could do better, be better than anyone ever thought he could.

He makes his way up the cobblestone entrance staircase and is greeted with more duels, more fighting and more death. A slim Hufflepuff girl was dueling a brawny Death Eater and by the looks of it was losing quickly. Draco comes to her side in a flash and fires nonverbal spells at the dark wizard with a fierceness in his eyes. The Death Eater eyes Draco with confusion, recognizing him immediately and Draco uses the distraction to his advantage. “Stupefy!” He hisses and the man goes soaring across the room, unconscious. “C’mon!” He shouts, grabbing the girl’s hand. “We need to find someplace safe,”

The girl, still surprised at Draco’s bravery, nods slowly and allows him to tug her down the crumbling corridor. “W-Where are we—“ She lets off a sharp shriek as Fenrir Greyback stands in front of them, flashing his sharp canines with malice.

“Draco Malfoy,” He grins. “What’s this? Helping a pathetic Hufflepuff?” The man chuckles, amused. “Pity,”

He goes to raise his wand but Draco is faster. “Avada Kedavra!” He shouts, a jet of green light following the command and Draco seems to lose a part of himself as the man drops to the ground, unseeing eyes turned upward. The Hufflepuff girl whimpers, shaking roughly beside him and Draco grabs ahold of her hand again. “We have to keep moving,” Draco gasps, voice strained. The girl nods, face pale. “What’s your name?” He asks as he scans the castle for the safest corridors, hoping to distract her.

“K-Kiera,” She replies through panicked breaths, tears spilling down her cheeks as they sprint.

“I’m Draco,” He says, voice calmer than his racing heart. “And I’m going to get you out of here and back to your family,”

“Really?” She asks, voice coming out a near whisper and Draco nods, determined at the newfound task.

“Yes,” He says simply.

They make several twists and turns before finding themselves at the Great Hall, a crowd of students, teachers and those alike standing still with stiff statures. “What’s happening?” Kiera asks, confused and Draco shakes his head, unsure.

“I don’t know,” He admits and pushes his way through the wall of people to the front where he sees Harry laying limp in Hagrid’s arms. Draco’s breath gets caught in his throat and a noise between a sob and a scream gets lost at his lips as tears spill down his face. “No,” He manages through the thick silence. “No, no, no. He can’t be dead,”

He goes to sprint toward Harry but someone catches his wrist before he can and he hears a chorus of “No! No, no, NO!” around him, much louder than his protests had been. He looks down at the hand holding onto his wrist and finds Hermione’s grip to be much stronger than he had expected. She and Ron stood at his side in tears and a sob leaves Draco at the sight of them along with his dead lover.

“SILENCE!” Voldemort howls and everyone’s cries burn out as a flash of bright light washes over them, silencing them into submission. “It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!”

Voldemort’s boasting tips Draco over the edge. He couldn’t handle the man speaking of Harry so lowly so he rips his hand away from Hermione and dashes toward Voldemort, fury burning in his eyes. He holds his wand to Voldemort’s throat with no remorse. “How dare you!” He screams, trembling all over, blood racing hot and angry in his veins. “How dare you kill him! You’re pathetic! You killed him all for some prophecy! You—“

“Lucius,” Voldemort calls calmly, gaze never leaving Draco’s. “Control your son,” Draco’s eyes briefly flicker to his father who stood beside Voldemort. “Lucius!” He calls again. “As my new second in command I order you take your son and get rid of him. He is a traitor and deserves to be killed by the hand of his father,”

Voldemort’s words do not scare Draco. He is far past being afraid; the sight of his boyfriend laying dead feet from him was enough to throw him into numbness. “Touch him and I’ll kill you,” The sound of Harry’s voice causes them all to freeze. He stood beside Draco now, who still had his wand pressed firmly to Voldemort’s throat and pushes the boy’s wand away with a gentle touch. “Let’s finish this how it started, Tom. Together,” Harry brushes Draco away, causing the boy to stumble with surprise, left only to watch the man he loves battle the most powerful wizard alive.

There are many close calls but when Voldemort hisses, “Avada Kedavra!” and Harry goes with, “Expelliarmus!” all goes quiet. Voldemort falls to the ground with a thud and when Draco takes a look around, all Death Eaters are fleeing.

He catches sight of his mother and father who beckon him forward but Draco merely shakes his head, turning his attention back to Harry. The boy looks shocked at the man who now lay dead in front of him and when he looks over at Draco, his features soften in the way they had outside of the Forbidden Forest. “Harry,” Draco whispers finally before running over and encasing Harry in his arms. “I love you so much. I’m so so sorry,” He murmurs into his dark hair.

“I love you too,” Harry whispers before pulling Draco in for a kiss.

“I thought you where dead,” Draco says and only then does he realize his chest is heaving and he’s crying so hard his whole body trembles.

Harry doesn’t mention that he had in fact died, deciding to pull Draco into his arms again. “I’m here now,” He says. “There’s nothing to worry about anymore,”

Draco pulls Harry in for another kiss, this one more desperate than the last and Draco never wants it to end. When it does, however, Ron and Hermione stumble over and pull Harry into a tight hug. Draco takes the moment to scan everyone in the Hall and finds the room void of his parents. A sickening feeling settles in the pit of Draco’s stomach but he pushes it away the best he can. He wanted to enjoy this moment; enjoy the fact that Harry was here, alive and that was all that mattered.

He feels the lightest tug at his hand and when he looks over, he finds Kiera standing timidly beside him. “Your parents are out in hiding,” She says. “I heard them talking about it while they were leaving. They said they’d go someplace in France and that you’d know where to find them,”

Draco nods slowly, relief filling his chest and sighs. “Thank you,” He says with a soft smile. He then turns back to Harry, finding the boy smiling wide at his two friends. Everything would be fine now. Voldemort was dead and he had nothing to worry about. It may take time, but with Harry at his side Draco knew all was well.


	17. Freeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco and Narcissa are on the run after the war and are left to fend for themselves. One night Harry saves Draco from drowning and after learning how rough the two have it, is determined to help them as much as he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is totally different from anything I've ever come up with before and I hope you enjoy. Much love x

The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter came famine. Draco had taken on the role of providing food to fill their growling stomachs and he grits his teeth, fighting against the bitter cold and holds his bow between stiff fingers. He had been out in the woods for hours and still nothing but he couldn’t come home empty handed. Not again. He didn’t think he could handle his mother’s disappointed expression. Although the two had always been thin and pointy with elegant frames, Draco and his mother had quickly lost weight after the war’s end. They had been forced from the Manor, their property destroyed not long after Voldemort’s downfall and took refuge in an abandoned cabin deep in the woods, concealed by thick couplings of trees. 

The cabin had done little for them apart from providing shelter. Food had been scarce when they raided the cupboards; half a dozen jars of preserved fruit and a small helping of dried venison. Whoever lives here last had been a hunter and Draco caught on quickly to using the bow and arrows he found stored in the bedroom closet along with a few throwing knives he had become quite accurate with. 

Living in the forest these past few months had taken a toll on the Malfoys’ bodies. Sharper cheekbones, sunken eye sockets, slim, boney fingers and hollow stomachs. Draco could deal with the unforgiving hunger but couldn’t bear with his mother spending another night starving. 

A rustle of trees and the snap of twigs causes Draco’s eyes to widen, senses sharpened and he readies his bow. After a few moments of surveillance, the blond finally catches sight of the fawn a few yards away. He takes an arrow from the sheath behind his back silently before steadying his bow, positioning the arrow which was heavy and lethal in his grasp and lets it fly. Draco’s accuracy causes the deer little pain and the Malfoy skins and guts the animal quickly before taking it home. When he finally arrives back to the cabin, Draco throws the carcass on the table in a heap and when he sees his mother standing at the entrance to the next room, Draco finds her expression to be proud and incredibly relieved. “Take care of that, will you? I’m going down to the river to wash up. I’ll bring the pail with to get more drinking water too,” Draco says after eyeing the nearly empty pail sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Of course, dear,” Narcissa says. 

Draco nods curtly before leaving the house again to make the trek back to the river. The deer’s blood had already began drying against his skin, embedded into the cracks of his hands and caked under his fingernails but Draco would rid the death from his skin soon enough. The cold still hadn’t let up and he shivers against a strong gust of wind but continues to walk, the metal pail clanking against his knee as he goes. He makes it to the river quickly although the walk was long and kneels on his haunches as he scrubs at his skin, watching the freezing water go pink with blood. He gasps with discomfort at the icy stream but continues cleaning until the water runs clear before cupping more into his hands, now reddened from the cold rather than blood and brings it up to his face, hoping to wash away the sins clinging to his features. Draco shudders, all former fatigue gone before picking up the pail with numb, trembling hands and dipping it into the river. The more it fills, the heavier and harder it gets to keep a steady grip on the metal. An owl hoots, startling him and Draco loses his balance as he flinches before plunging into the water, the river much deeper than he had thought. 

Draco had never felt a chill as cold as this. He lets off a scream that goes unheard, leaving only bubbles of air at the river’s surface, muscles frozen and lungs burning with lack of air. He quickly accepts that he would die here, glad that his mother would have enough food to last a week or so. He shuts his eyes, waiting for death to overcome him before feeling a tight grip on the collar of his shirt. He is pulled back to land, laying flat on his back, barely conscious as he coughs up water from his lungs. When he finally opens his eyes, Draco finds Harry standing above him and fear creeps into his chest. He had finally been found; surely Potter would turn him in. 

Draco’s heart beats fast in his chest as silver eyes meet green. He had finally met his fate. He coughs and sputters, lungs slowly getting used to the frigid air as Harry says, “What’re you doing here, Malfoy? The Aurors are coming. You’re going to get caught!” His voice comes out harsh and Draco’s muscles scream with protest as he sits up. 

“C-Cabin,” He stammers, teeth chattering as his jaw muscles seek warmth. 

“Is that where you’re hiding? I’ll take you there,” Draco nods numbly as he trembles and Harry helps him up, keeping hold of Malfoy’s forearm and says, “How far off is it?”

“A m-mile or two,” Draco whispers, leaning heavily on Harry, glad for the warmth his body brought. Harry nods sharply and with a harsh crack, the two are gone. Draco nearly falls to the ground when they make it in front of the cabin and he winces, knuckles whitening from his tight grip on Harry’s arm. “It’s unlocked,” He whispers and Harry doesn’t say a word as he steers them inside. 

When Narcissa catches sight of her son, her blood runs cold. “Draco,” She whispers with wide eyes, nearing closer to him and stops in her tracks. “Potter,” 

The name rings in the air for a few moments before Harry responds. “I found him in the river a few miles from here. He must’ve fallen in,” 

Narcissa scoops Draco’s trembling frame in her own, tears collecting in her eyes as she cards her fingers through his damp hair. “Oh sweetie I’m so sorry,” She murmurs and Draco merely whimpers, curling closer into her arms. 

Harry grabs a blanket off the ratty sofa and drapes it around Draco’s shoulders before leading him to sit down, Narcissa watching helplessly. “You don’t have wands?” He asks, thinking back to the pail he saw drifting down the river before finding Malfoy in it’s unforgiving water. 

“No,” Narcissa says. “A group of Snatchers caught us when we did. They snapped our wands and were going to turn us in to the Ministry before Draco and I managed to escape,” Her voice comes out hollow as she nears closer to her son, resting a hand over his which had turned a nasty blue. 

Harry takes his own wand from his pocket and relights the fireplace which embers flickered pathetically before turning back to them. “I won’t turn you in,” Harry says softly and Narcissa’s face nearly melts with relief. 

“Oh Harry, thank you,” She says softly. 

“Where’s Lucius?” Harry can’t help but ask after seeing no sign of the man. 

“He couldn’t escape the Snatchers,” Narcissa says with a small frown. “He told us to run. It’s just the two of us now,” Her frown deepens with each word and Harry surveys the room with a quick sweep before spotting the bow and throwing knives on the kitchen table. 

“You’ve been hunting,” He points out, a statement rather than a question. 

“Draco has,” Narcissa says, not willing to take the credit. “Thank you for bringing him back to me. He’s all I have,” 

Harry nods curtly and eyes the shivering blond with worry. “It’s not a problem,” He says, eyes never leaving Draco’s fragile frame. Harry takes his wand back out from his robes and holds it out to her. “Take it,” He says, pressing the worn wood into Narcissa’s unsuspecting palm. 

“Harry—“ 

“I can get another one. You can’t,” He points out and Narcissa nods hesitantly before taking the wand. She nears closer to Draco and quickly dries his clothes, casting warming charms around him to stifle his shivers. “I’ll cast a Fedelius Charm around the cabin so the Aurors won’t find you,” He tells her. 

“And you’ll be the Secret Keeper?” Narcissa asks with wide eyes as Harry nods. “You won’t give us up?” 

Harry opens his mouth to defend himself but Draco beats him to it, speaking for the first time since they got back. “He just gave you his wand and saved me from drowning. I’m sure we can trust him,” He croaks, eyes drugged with fatigue. Narcissa nods, looking slightly more relaxed and Draco asks, “Can you get me a fresh set of clothes?” He pulls at the shirt he was in which, although it was now dry, was rough and stiff from the spellwork. Narcissa nods, exiting the room quickly to grab Draco a new outfit and Harry shuffled awkwardly where he stood, unsure what to say. “Thank you,” Draco murmurs, glad they were alone. 

“No need to thank me,” 

Draco shakes his head quickly at Harry’s reply. “No,” He argues. “I should’ve thanked you a while ago,” Harry watches the blond stand from the couch and near closer to him, eyeing him with slight hesitation before kissing him gently. “So thanks again, Potter,” Narcissa returns moments later and Draco grins at Harry’s flushed cheeks. “Don’t be a stranger,” He continues into the shell of Potter’s ear. “Feel free to visit again. Maybe I’ll really show you how grateful I am,” He stands back to his full height with a wink before turning to his mother. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get changed. Have a good night, Harry,” He grins in Harry’s direction a final time before turning on his heel and disappears.


	18. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco's hands tremble because of the Unforgivables performed on him during the war and Harry is devastated once he finds out.

Hot tea spills down Draco’s hand as he holds his teacup firmly, tremors making their daily rounds on his muscles. He lets off a colourful swear and drops the fine China before shaking his hand out and going to the sink. Resting his hand under the chilling tap, Draco grits his teeth. He hated this. He hated all of it. 

Draco takes his hand back from the cooled water and shuts off the faucet before glaring down at his trembling hands. He watches the muscles flutter underneath alabaster skin and he lets off a whimper as sharp pain makes its way up his palms. 

“Draco?” Harry calls and Draco’s eyes widen as he clasps his hands behind his back as if he had something to hide. Harry didn’t know about the trembling of his muscles and Draco wasn’t about to tell him now. “Are you alright, love?” 

Draco takes in the concerned look in Harry’s eyes and instantly feels guilty. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” He mumbles and cringes when Harry’s green eyed gaze flits down to his hidden palms. 

“What’re you hiding?” He asks with a teasing smile and Draco frowns, shrugging before another whimper leaves his mouth. Harry’s face goes serious then, eyebrows furrowed and he nears closer, prompting Draco to rests his hands in his own. 

Draco could feel the twitching of his muscles behind his back and he can’t manage to look at Harry as he shows him. He hears Harry’s breath catch in his throat and he can’t help but grimace. “It’s… not a big deal,” He says lamely. 

“Draco, what is this?” Harry asks softly and when Draco finally takes the time to look up at his boyfriend, he finds him frowning deeply, eyes swimming with worry. 

“It’s my muscles,” He begins quietly, eyes quickly shifting downward. “I had a lot of Unforgivables performed on me during the war and it put a lot of strain on my body so sometimes my muscles spasm like that,” Draco whispers. “A few Healers at St. Mungos have been giving me muscle relaxers and they help,” He admits, finally looking back up. “Speaking of, can you go down to my lab and get me a vial? It’s a light blue colour in one of the top cabinets,” 

Harry nods, holding an expression Draco couldn’t quite read and the blond stumbles over to the kitchen table, sitting in the closest chair and sighs shakily. There it was; his secret was finally out and Harry must think he was a complete freak for it. When Potter comes back, he hands over the correct vial and Draco takes it, swallowing it in one go and grimacing at the citrus aftertaste. “How long has this been going on for?” Harry asks softly, sitting beside Draco and watching as the tremors slowly subside. 

“They started a few months after the war ended,” Draco’s voice is quiet and airy and he’s fidgeting in his chair, avoiding Harry’s gaze. “The Healers don’t know how long they’ll last for. Whether or not they’re permanent. They say that since they come and go that they should go away with time but…” He trails off with tears in his eyes, wanting nothing more than to disappear. “I’m sorry,” Draco murmurs, ashamed and Harry shakes his head quickly, holding one of Draco’s hands in his own. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Harry says and presses a feather light kiss to the slight crease between Malfoy’s eyebrows. “I know how hard this must be for you and I’m going to be there every step of the way,” He promises. 

Draco gives Harry’s hand a squeeze, blinking back tears and more grateful than Potter would ever know. “Thank you,” He says, tone stuck between a whimper and a sigh. Harry wouldn’t leave him after all. 

“Is this why you haven’t been down in your lab very often?” Draco watches Harry’s gaze turn to the staircase leading to the basement where Draco’s potions lab was located and the man nods with a sad frown. 

“Yes,” He says simply. Most days Draco was able to tell when a fit was coming; the itch beneath his skin he could never relieve before the tremors began. The thought of it makes him grimace. “I’ve ruined countless potions because of it,” 

Harry frowns deeply at this, mimicking his boyfriend’s depressed expression. He knew how much Draco enjoyed brewing potions and he hated how this was now holding him back. “Why’d you wait so long to tell me?” 

Draco stares down at a dent in the wood of their kitchen table and shrugs guiltily. “I was afraid,” He admits. “Not that you’d leave me for this but… I was worried you’d look at me differently,” 

Harry’s eyebrows furrow at the confession. “Draco,” He says softly. “I would never do that. I’d be concerned for you but I would never look at or treat you differently,” He promises. Draco nods slowly and pulls his boyfriend into a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” He whispers. “Thank you so much, my love,” Draco’s voice trembles and Harry runs a free hand through the downy hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I’ll always be here,” Harry vows. “Always,” 

Draco let’s off a breathy laugh and nods. “Always,” He repeats, holding Harry even tighter.


	19. Flower Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Luna spells a flower crown to Draco's head that won't disappear until he's truly happy and Harry is determined to make that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite one shots I've written in a while and I hope you enjoy it. Much love and thank you for all the support this fic as gotten so far! I can't believe I've written 19 parts already x

“Lovegood, get this flower crown off me or I swear to Godric—“ Draco fumes, following after the blond girl and Harry chuckles with slight confusion when he sees Malfoy strutting down the Great Hall, tugging at a coupling of flowers in his hair.

Harry follows after him, curiosity getting the best of him as Draco continues to stomp and curse. “You needed it,” Luna says once Draco had finally cornered her. 

“I didn’t need anyth—“ 

“You’re so sad lately and flowers always make people happy,” 

Draco sends the girl a nasty glare and crosses his arms at his chest. “I look ridiculous,” He pouts and Luna laughs, the action light and airy. 

“You look great. Doesn’t he, Harry?” The dark haired boy cringes and steps out of the shadows guiltily with a bowed head, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Uh yeah,” He stammers. “You look... dashing,”

Draco rolls his eyes and snorts indignantly. “Dashing,” He repeats with a shake of his head, flowers unmoving. 

“What sort of flowers are those, anyway?” Harry asks, not recognizing them. 

“Narcissus flowers,” Luna pipes up with a lopsided grin. 

“Hardy har har,” Draco says with another roll of his eyes. “Very funny, Luna,”

The flowers in themselves were rather beautiful. They were alternating shades of yellow and pink, complimenting Draco’s pale hair which hung just above his eyes, not much different than it had been turning their seventh year at Hogwarts.

“What spell did you use?” Harry asks with crinkled eyebrows, intrigued. 

“Well I can’t tell you that, can I, Harry Potter? Then Draco will just find a way to counter it,” Luna says with a dreamy smile and Draco groans. 

“Luna please,” Draco whines. “I’ll be the laughing stalk of the whole school,” He groans. 

“You won’t. Half the school has seen you by now and hardly anyone has laughed,” Lovegood counters and Draco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“When will it go away?” He asks bitterly. 

“When your spirits lift,” Luna says with another sloppy grin. “Shouldn’t be too hard, should it?” 

Draco sighs with a shake of his head and turns on his heel to leave. Luna frowns, smile long gone and says, “Well, I didn’t think he’d take it that badly, did you?” She eyes Harry curiously and the best he can do is shrug. 

*** 

A week later, Harry spots Malfoy still sporting the flower crown and the slightest grin makes its way onto his face. He hadn’t been lying when he said the boy looked good. It somehow... suited him. 

Pansy Parkinson stood at Draco’s side, sending glares at the students who snickered at Malfoy while Draco merely ducked his head and kept moving. That was one thing that Harry quickly noticed about Malfoy the moment they arrived at Hogwarts to retake their seventh year; Draco wasn’t willing to put up a fight anymore. The boy who cast Unforgivables in bathrooms and taunted him from trees was long gone and the shell of the boy was all that was left.

“C’mon,” He hears Draco say, grasping Pansy’s dominant hand to lower her wand she had raised to jinx a sixth year, holding a sneer that put Draco’s to shame. “It’s not worth it,” 

Pansy shoves her wand into her robes with another glare at the boy before the two continue forward. “I don’t know why you stopped me. He was totally out of line,” The Slytherin girl snaps a few moments later and Draco sighs with a frown. 

“Because it’s not worth it,” Draco repeats. 

“He insulted your mother and your family name,” Pansy hisses and Draco sighs, quickly becoming annoyed. 

“I’m well aware,” He says, tone clipped. “But if you get expelled for hexing another student, I’ll be all alone and then what?” Draco points out sharply and Pansy’s features soften as the two trudge along to their next class before they’re out of Harry’s line of hearing. 

“Potter’s snooping again,” Pansy points out as they take their seats in Potions, expression grim. 

“I know,” Draco sighs. “and I’m afraid he’s going to figure everything out,” He mumbles under his breath. 

The day drags on slowly and Potter stops Draco on his way back from the Great Hall up to his dorm. “Yes, Potter?” He sighs, eyeing the boy’s grip on his wrist, sounding more tired than annoyed. 

“I saw what happened in the courtyard this morning,” Harry frowns and Draco sighs again, wanting nothing more than to flee. 

“I’m sure you weren’t the only one,” He murmurs and runs his fingers through his hair only to stop halfway through by the flowers still embedded there. “These are fucking ridiculous,” He grumbles and the smallest smile makes its way on Harry’s face again. 

“You look cute,” Harry says and upon realizing what he had said, bolts with wide eyes and a blush. 

*** 

Three days later, Harry finds a pill bottle forgotten in the bathroom sitting at the sink. With furrowed eyebrows, Harry takes it between his hands and reads the label. 20mg Fluoxetine. Prescribed to: Draco Malfoy. 

Potter’s mouth turns dry, face pale and he stuffs the bottle into his robes, shower forgotten, hurrying to Draco’s dorm. He recognized the brand immediately; his Aunt Petunia had often left her same prescription sitting in the kitchen for Harry to find while making breakfast every morning as a child and his hands shake as he knocks on the boy’s door. 

When Draco answers, hair still damp yet flowers still skillfully intact, he frowns. “What do you want, Potter?” He asks with confusion and Harry takes the bottle from his robes, shaking the pills lightly. 

“You left this in the bathroom. I was about to have a shower when I found it,” 

Harry watches Draco’s face pale and his snatches the bottle from Harry’s grip, eyes wide. “I—“ He begins, staring down at his feet, ashamed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” He whispers.

“I won’t,” Harry promises. “Can I come in?” He asks softly and after a moment’s hesitation, Draco nods and moves aside. 

Harry takes a seat on Draco’s bed and fiddles with his fingers, not exactly sure what he was supposed to say. What was he even doing here? “My aunt took those,” He says stupidly and Draco nods uncomfortably as he places it on his nightstand. 

“If all you’re going to do is pity me, Potter, I don’t—“ 

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry insists. “I’ve been seeing a mind Healer too,” His words come out mumbled and rushed and he squirms under Draco’s gaze. 

“Really?” Draco asks and Harry nods slowly. 

“Really.” 

Draco seems to physically relax at this and slumps down beside Harry on his bed with a sigh. “Thank you,” He murmurs and Harry shrugs with a light blush. 

“No need to thank me,”

Draco shakes his head slowly, flower crown staying put without movement and says, “I do. It makes me feel... less alone. No one really gets it,” He shrugs. “Pansy tries to understand but she just can’t, you know?” Harry nods with a ghost of a smile. 

“Yeah,” He says. “I do,” A few moments of silence passes between them before Harry picks up speed again. “Is that why your flower crown isn’t going away? Because artificial happiness doesn’t count?”

Draco bites his lip, looking troubled before nodding slowly. “Yes,” He murmurs and tugs at the flowers which refuse to budge with gritted teeth. “It’s so frustrating,” He admits. “But I can’t blame Luna. She didn’t know,” Draco fiddles with his fingers for a moment before continuing. “They have really shit side effects so sometimes I don’t take them. Pansy would have my head if I knew. She followed me to the bathroom and watched me take them. I dunno how I forgot them there,” He shakes his head, frustrated with himself. “I’m just glad it was you that found them and not... someone who would make fun of me,” 

“Depression isn’t something to make fun of,” Harry frowns and Draco shrugs. 

“Hasn’t stopped people before,” He murmurs, not meeting Harry’s gaze. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m just hoping this goes away soon. All I need is one moment. One true moment of happiness and then... and then it’ll be over,” Tears fill in Draco’s eyes and he buries his head in his hands. “It’s not even a big deal. It’s just a bloody flower crown but—“ 

“It’s more than that and you know it,” Harry says, tone sharper than intended. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and wonders why it matters to him so much. 

“You’re right,” Draco says before Harry could apologize. “I’m rather beat though, Potter. Mind if I hit it to bed?” 

Harry nods slowly, blushing and feeling as if he overstayed his welcome. “Of course,” He whispers and slips off Malfoy’s bed and toward the door. “Goodnight,” 

Draco flashes Harry a crooked smile. “Goodnight,” He murmurs.

*** 

Three days later, Harry’s plan was finally in action. He had spent the whole night back from Draco’s dorm room formulating it and now, it was happening. Project Serotonin was falling into place. 

“Where are you taking me?” Draco groans, Potter’s grip on his wrist firm as he leads him down the long hall to his dorm room. He pats the silk blindfold with his free hand and grimaces. “I don’t like this, Potter,” He groans.

Harry pushes his bedroom door open with the slightest smile and says, “Take the blindfold off,” 

Draco does as Harry says and his jaw drops as soon as he sees her. “Mum,” He whispers with wide eyes. “Oh my god,” He pulls her into a tight hug, warmth spreading in his chest. “You’re on house arrest. How—“ 

“I talked with the Minister and managed to bend the rules,” Harry tells him, grinning softly at the sight in front of him. “Wizard savior and all that. Privileges,” He rambles, blushing slightly. 

“How long does she have until she has to go back?” Draco asks once they finally pulled apart.

“Just until the hour’s end,” Harry says. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it longer but this was as far as I could sway him,” He mumbles sheepishly. 

“No,” Draco says. “It’s perfect, Harry. Thank you,” He shoots Potter a dazzling smile before turning back to his mother and squeezing her hands gently. “Merlin, mum. How are you?”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Harry says, grin never lessening. “A few Aurors will show to escort her back to the Manor once the hour is up,” He explains and the two of them nod. 

Harry doesn’t notice until the next morning but Draco’s flower crown had finally vanished. 

*** 

“I never managed to thank you properly last night,” Draco says sheepishly the next morning, running a hand through his hair which was now free of flowers. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry says with a wave of his hand. “It was my pleasure,”

“Still,” Draco says softly, eyes skating around the empty corridor. “Malfoys never leave their debts unpaid,” 

“Your happiness was enough, Draco. Don’t worry about it,” Harry says, finally noticing the little space between them. 

“I want to make it up to you,” Draco whispers and cups Potter’s cheek in his hand. “So trust me, okay?” Harry nods slowly, heart racing. 

“Okay,” He murmurs. “I trust you,” 

Draco says nothing more, only presses his lips to Harry’s, the action soft and wanting. When he finally pulls away, he finds Harry’s breathing shallow and cheeks a pale pink. “So thank you, Harry,” Draco says, voice barely above a whisper. 

Harry chuckles lightly and runs a hand through Draco’s hair with a feather light touch. “Maybe I should do favors for you more often,” He says with a cheeky grin. 

“Yeah?” Draco says with a light laugh. 

“Yeah,” Harry grins and pecks Draco’s lips again, blush finally fading. “But, maybe there is one more thing you can do for me,” 

Another grin washes over Draco’s face. “Anything,” He says. When Harry whispers the request in Draco’s ear, the Malfoy scowls but eventually nods. 

“Fine,” He grumbles and when Harry spots Draco wearing a flower crown with red and golden roses embedded into it, he can’t help but grin.


	20. All These Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Andromeda shelters Draco from Voldemort at a young age and Draco makes friends with Harry, quickly realizing he would do anything to keep him safe, no matter the cost and that his feelings for Harry may run deeper than simply friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This description sucks. Sorry pals. I was in the mood for a redemption arc!Draco one shot ((but when am I not? JKR did him dirty in that department in my opinion.)) so here we are. I’ve always enjoyed the concept of Sirius and/or Remus ((or literally ANYONE other than the Dursleys)) taking care of Harry after James and Lily’s death so get ready for that. I had a lot of fun writing this and I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump lately. I haven’t written very much this month and I’m sorry for that! This note has dragged on long enough so I’ll cut it here. Much love and enjoy.

“Please,” Narcissa begs Andromeda from her kitchen, trembling slightly. “Please take care of him,” Her second cousin scowls slightly and says nothing so the blonde woman continues. “The Dark Lord is rising again,” She murmurs with a shudder. “I don’t want to have Draco around that. Please,”

Andromeda’s expression softens slightly and she looks between a rock and a hard place. Her face scrunches up, as if she had just tasted something sour before nodding. “Fine,” She murmurs.

Narcissa lets off a sigh of relief before taking Andromeda’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Oh Godric, thank you,” She says and her cousin shrugs, nonchalant although this was anything but. “I’ll do anything. Anything to repay you,”

Andromeda nods curtly. “Keep that bloody man away from my family,” She commands and although Narcissa stiffens slightly, she nods.

“I’ll do everything in my power,” She says although Andromeda knew that was saying little. Narcissa had always been Lucius’s lapdog and Lucius always did anything that came from the man’s mouth. Narcissa then moves around her back to the living room where Draco sat fiddling with a toy Narcissa didn’t recognize. “Draco, dear,” She murmurs. “You’re going to be staying with your Aunt Meda for a little while, okay?”

Draco’s eyebrows crinkle slightly, confused. “Why?”

“Your father and I have a few things to… take care of and it’s best if you didn’t come,” Narcissa says, running a hand through his hair, hiding a frown.

“But— I turn eleven soon,” He pouts. “And I’ll be going to Hogwarts! Will you be there for that?”

Narcissa nods and bends to kiss her son’s forehead. “Of course, my little dragon. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,”

Draco seems to brighten slightly at this and stands up to give her a hug. “Okay,” He whispers, the word muffled into her robes. “I love you,”

“I love you too, Draco,” Narcissa says. “I’ll see you soon,” She promises, squeezing the boy tight before going to the door. She turns, giving a final small wave and steps outside, Apparating back to the Manor.

Back inside Andromeda’s house, Draco hears footsteps coming from the stairs leading to the second floor. Moments later, a boy with unruly black hair and green eyes comes bumbling down them and when he spots Draco, he smiles. “Hello,” He says. “I’m Harry,”

“Draco,” The blond says, extending his hand out to him. Harry gives it a quick look and shakes it without hesitation.

-Four years later-

Draco brushes invisible dust off his dress robes and forces a smile in the mirror and fuck, even that looked panicky. Potter was waiting out in the Great Hall for him and he wipes his clammy palms on his trousers.

After a few deep breaths, Draco forces himself from his dorm. Potter had asked him to the Yule Ball and Draco was scared shitless at the question but was glad it was him who would be hanging off Harry’s arm. He didn’t think he could contain his jealousy if it wasn’t.

“Well don’t you look handsome,” Hermione grins when she spots him.

Draco blushes a dark red and mumbles, “Shut up, ‘Mione,” He shakes himself out and wills the blush to leave his cheeks. “Where are the boys?”

“The loo,” Hermione supplies and Draco nods with a shallow breath. “Everything will be fine,” She chuckles and Draco rolls his eyes.

“Right. For you and Krum maybe,” He mutters and before Hermione can reply, the two boys come wandering toward them. Harry looks incredible. Black robes with a white undershirt and silver tie to match Draco’s eyes. He finds himself blushing all over again.

“Hullo,” Harry says gently, cupping Draco’s reddened cheek in his tanned palm.

“Hello,” Draco murmurs. He caught Ron and Hermione staring a few feet away but chooses to ignore them, focusing on Harry instead.

“We’ll meet you guys out,” Harry says dismissively and the two nod, leaving them alone. “Ready?” He asks and Draco nods. Then, Harry does something that shocks them both. He kisses Draco full on the lips.

“I am now,” Draco chuckles once the pulled apart. “Let’s kill this thing,”

=Three years later-

“C’mon,” Draco hisses, pulling Hermione and Ron through the crowd of dueling witches and wizards. A few spells ricochet off the shielding charms he had previously cast around them as they sprint down the halls. “We have to find Harry,”

They stop in the Great Hall, a wall of students and teachers alike halting them. When they push forward through the crowd, they freeze when they spot Voldemort standing several yards away holding a malicious grin. “Harry Potter is dead!” He howls and Draco’s heart stops.

A noise, something between a whimper and a dry sob gets stuck in his throat and everything else seems like white noise. He takes a step toward Harry, then another before he feels a tug on his wrist. “No,” Hermione murmurs through her tears. “Draco, you can’t. You know that’s not what H-Harry would want,” She seems to choke on Harry’s name, devastated and Draco sobs at her words.

“Anyone willing to step forward will be spared,” Voldemort says, voice eerie.

Before Draco knows what he’s doing, he’s strutting forward and is standing face to face with the Dark Lord. “You fucking monster,” He hisses before spitting in the reptilian man’s face.

Voldemort flinches slightly although his expression is calm. Wiping his face, his gaze never leaves Draco’s. He then lifts his wand, faster than Draco can with his own, and murmurs, “Crucio,” It was the worst pain Draco had ever experienced. He falls to his knees, screaming and sobbing with agony.

“Stop!” Hermione shouts through tears. “Please,”

Voldemort’s gaze flickers toward Hermione’s. “Would you like to take his place, mudblood?”

“Hermione no,” Draco cries, shaking his head vigorously as pain continues to pulse through his body. “Just kill me. P-Please. You already killed Harry. P-Please just kill me too,” He was begging and surely he looked pathetic but Draco didn’t care. He stopped caring the moment he saw Harry motionless in Hagrid’s arms.

But if he opened his eyes now, he would see Harry tumble out of Hagrid’s arms to face Voldemort. “Expelliarmus!” He shouts and everyone freezes as Voldemort’s wand shoots out from his hand and into Harry’s own. Draco slumps down onto the marble floor, muscles screaming and barely has a moment to look up at Harry before the boy is shooting spells at Nagini and sprinting down the corridor.

“Harry,” He says, voice just above a whisper.

They forget about Draco completely, trying to catch up to Harry instead and once they’re gone, Hermione rushes toward Draco and pulls him to his feet. “You idiot!” She hisses and Draco says nothing at first, leaning heavily on Hermione instead.

“He’s alive,” Draco murmurs. “Harry’s alive. We have to— We have to keep him safe until he can kill Voldemort,” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Draco straightens, the shock of the spell Voldemort had cast already fading.

“Draco stop,” Hermione says gently. “You have to slow down. You can’t—“

“We don’t have time to slow down! Don’t you get that? We have to go!” Draco yells, shaking off her arm. When he looks over at Ron, he finds the boy holding a certain look of admiration Draco had never seen before. It was obvious that Ron had never liked Draco, ever since he had first met him in the train compartment on their first ride to Hogwarts but Harry had stuck by his side the entire time so Ron was to either join the two of them or leave and looking at him now, it seemed he hated Draco a bit less. 

“He’s right,” Ron says, stepping toward the two of them. “We have to go,” 

Hermione lets off a huff of indifference before nodding and following Draco out of the Great Hall and into the general direction Harry had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to do if they did manage to find him but he refused to sit around and just wait so he would do anything he could to save the boy. 

“Where are we going?” Hermione shouts into the wind and neither Draco or Ron answer. It was obvious they didn’t have a plan but when did any of their plans work out anyway? 

It doesn’t take long to find Harry and they stop in their tracks when they catch sight of the green and red lights cast from Harry and Tom’s wands. Draco is trembling all over again and doesn’t pull away when Hermione grips onto his hand like a life raft. “Bloody hell,” Ron mutters. 

Draco is trembling in Hermione’s grasp as he watches with wide eyes. The whole world seemed to be spinning, as if their lives all hung in the balance and maybe it did. Hell, Draco couldn’t tell. He was holding onto Hermione just as fiercely and when he witnesses Voldemort’s downfall, it was like a huge weight lifts from his chest. His feet carry him toward Harry on their own accord and he pulls him into a tight hug. “Harry,” He murmurs into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Harry seems to relax the moment he’s pulled into Draco’s arms, relieved. “Draco,” He replies, tone just as gentle. 

For a moment, the two simply hold each other until Draco finally looks up, eyes teary and says, “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” His voice wobbles and he wipes his eyes quickly. “You scared me, you beautiful fucking idiot,” He pulls Harry’s face into his hands and kisses him fiercely. “I love you,” Draco whispers against his mouth. 

Harry smiles, the sight making Draco’s heart melt and says, “I love you too,” 

Draco looks back at Ron and Hermione to find them standing a respectful ways away before he beckons them forward. The two of them instantly pull Harry into a hug and Draco watches them fondly. Warmth spreads in his chest and when they pull apart, Ron says, “What now?” 

Draco takes ahold of Harry’s hand with a soft smile. “Now we go home,” He murmurs. Harry grins and kisses the top of Draco’s hand lightly and as they walk back toward the castle, no one else disagrees. 

***

“I can’t believe you spit in his face,” Harry murmurs. 

It had been hours since Voldemort’s downfall and Harry and Draco were laying in Harry’s bed at Grimmauld. Sirius and Remus were shuffling around downstairs and Draco speaks in a whisper when he answers. “He killed you. I wasn’t about to kiss him,” He mumbles. 

“You took the Cruciatus for me,” Harry says with a deep frown and Draco shrugs. 

“I’d do anything for you, you know that,” He says simply. 

“Yes but you shouldn’t have–” 

“Harry,” Draco says firmly, stopping him. “I love you and I’d do anything in my power to protect you. I figured this out a while ago,” He kisses the callouses lining Harry’s free hand with a feather light touch as Harry runs the other through his blond hair with a frown. “So don’t be sorry,” 

“You’ve done so much for me and I–” 

“After all these years, you really think I’d change my mind on you?” Draco asks softly and when he is greeted with Harry’s insecure doubt, he kisses the boy gently. “Harry, don’t be crass,” He mumbles and Harry laughs halfheartedly. “I love you and that’ll never change, okay?” 

“Okay,” Harry whispers. “I love you too,” 

Draco chuckles lightly. “I would hope so,” He teases and kisses Harry’s forehead lovingly before saying, “Now get back to playing with my hair. You know I love that,” 

Harry is smiling full on now. “Of course, my love,” He replies and in that moment, he knew he wouldn’t change this for the world.


	21. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco skips meals because of stress and Harry is undoubtedly concerned.

Draco rests his head in his hands, elbows propped up on his Charms textbook, eyes burning with exhaustion. He didn’t dare look at the clock; it was late and Harry still hadn’t come back to their dorm which meant he had probably missed dinner but Draco couldn’t be bothered. 

Draco forces himself up, eyes strained as he looks back down at his textbook. He couldn’t fail his exams. Especially not a class like Charms. Just one more chapter. One more chapter and then— “Draco what’re you doing up? It’s late and you missed dinner,” Harry frowns and the most Draco can do is shrug.

“Skipping dinner means more studying time,” Draco mutters, so quiet Harry barely manages to catch it.

“Well that’s just ridiculous, isn’t it?” Harry scoffs and Draco shrugs, not in the mood to argue.

“I just... I just want to be left alone, Potter,” Draco admits softly, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Please,” He adds when Harry doesn’t move.

After a few moment’s thought, Harry does and Draco sighs, going back to scribbling down notes on parchment. Potter returns a few minutes later, however. When Draco looks up, irritated, he finds the boy holding out a plate with a hamburger and fries. “I convinced the house elves to make you something,” He says sheepishly. When Draco answers with silence, unsure what to say, Harry continues. “Just... eat is please. I’ll read you your Charms textbook if that’s what you want,” 

A light blush flushes Draco’s cheeks and he nods stiffly, taking the plate and handing over the textbook. “I’m on chapter five,” He whispers, not meeting Harry’s gaze. He wants to ask why Potter was being so nice to him but the dark haired boy had begun reading from the book, eyebrows furrowed with concentration as he goes. With a soft smile, Draco digs into his meal. His stomach growls as he chews, knowing full well that he was a fool for skipping his meals but he couldn’t afford to fail. He was on thin ice with his parents as it was; they wouldn’t accept failure.  
Every few moments, Harry looks up from his reading to check up on Malfoy. The boy was gaunt; boney fingers, sharp cheekbones and sunken eye sockets. Harry’s heart breaks at the sight of him. He knew from the moment the two began dorming together that Draco wasn’t in a good way.

“You were saying?” Draco says after politely wiping his mouth, holding a small smile.

“Oh right, er sorry,“ Harry mumbles, gaze falling back to his lap as he continues reading. Draco moves back to his meal, the smile never leaving his mouth. He had never witnessed this soft, caring side of Harry before.  
When Harry looks up next, he finds Malfoy licking ketchup and grease off his fingers. He blushes a deep red and is quick to resume his reading, hoping Malfoy wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately, he does. “Something wrong, Potter?” He asks with a knowing smile.

“No,” Harry says quickly. Draco hums under his breath and Harry fiddles with the pages of the textbook, simply letting the silence wash over them. “You’ll do fine, you know,” He says finally. “On your NEWTS. I’m sure you’ll pass,”

It’s Draco’s turn to blush this time as he pushes the empty plate away. “I hope so,” He mutters.

Harry takes a daring move toward Draco and rests his hand on his knee. “You will,” He says softly. “So promise me you won’t skip any more meals. Extra study time or no,”

Draco let’s off a low sigh and rubs at his tired eyes. “Fine,” He murmurs. “But for some odd reason I do... would you bring me dinner again?” His expression is teasing and Harry has the sudden urge to hide his face in his hands.

“If the opportunity presents itself, possibly,” Harry says with a gentle grin.

Draco rests his hand over top of Harry’s which hadn’t left the blond’s knee. “Thank you,” He says softly.

“Welcome,” Harry replies. Draco suddenly nears closer to him and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder, eyes drugged with exhaustion. “Lets get you to bed,” Harry says and Draco groans. 

“Comfortable here,” He mumbles and Harry chuckles. 

“You can sleep on my shoulder, love,” Harry replies with another grin. 

“Watch me, Potter,” Draco mutters with a small smirk and proves Harry wrong, falling asleep in minutes.


	22. Nail Polish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco paints his nails and Harry loves it.

The first time Draco got his nails painted, he was drunk. Pansy had done them up a pretty silver to match his eyes while Malfoy was passed out on one of the couches in the common room and when he woke hours later and notices, he can’t be bothered to take it off. 

“You like it!” Pansy says with a wide grin as the two walk down to the Great Hall. 

“No I don’t,” Draco denies. “I’m just too hungover to vanish it,” He says lamely and Pansy rolls her eyes. 

“Right,” She says with a scoff. “Not like it’d only take a swish of your wand or anything,”

Draco sends her a halfhearted obscene gesture and the Slytherin girl chuckles but doesn’t taunt him again. She catches him observing his nails throughout their lectures with undivided attention, watching them gleam and shimmer in the sunlight and can’t help but grin.

A few days later, Draco had begun to get over the glamour and took to picking at the polish whenever fits of anxiety would claw up his throat and fill with static behind his eyes. He was holed up in his dorm room, knees pulled to his chest, breathing heavy as he watches the chips of silver polish drop to a pile on his bed sheets with each pickpickpick of his nails. 

His shared dorm opens and Potter stumbles inside looking exhausted yet he freezes upon noticing Draco. “Draco?” He calls with slight confusion into the semi darkness. “Are you alright?” 

A moment’s silence passed between them before Draco says, “No,” The word comes out strangled as he hyperventilates and shuts his eyes tight. 

Harry is at his side in an instant. “Can I touch you?” He whispers and a few seconds later Draco nods, an action Harry nearly doesn’t catch through the lightest sliver of moonlight coming through their window. He wraps his arms around Draco gently, frowning at the intensity of his breathing. “What happened?” He asks softly as Draco trembles in his grip. 

“My mark,” Draco murmurs, hiding his hands under his long sleeves. “It was hurting like... Like I was being called to him,” He shudders, breathing slowing slightly with the way Harry was gently rocking them back and forth. “I keep having these dreams—nightmares—about him. What he could’ve done to my family,” A strangled sob leaves his mouth and Harry’s heart breaks. “I did everything I could to keep them safe,” 

“And you did. They are safe, Draco,” Harry reassures him, running a hand through the boy’s hair. 

“My father is in Azkaban, Harry. That’s not exactly safe,” Draco whispers, lip trembling. 

Harry frowns, not exactly having a reply to that one. Draco had him there. “You’ve got three months and then you’re out of here, yeah? Then you can see your mum and visit your dad,” He says eventually and Draco nods slowly, breath beginning to even out. “And Voldemort’s gone, remember? That’s just your imagination,” Harry promises. 

“But what if—“ 

“If anyone is positive he’s dead, it’s me, Draco,” Harry says with a soft grin. “I understand, though. My scar hurts sometimes but then I realize it’s not real. It never is anymore,” 

Draco nods, curling into Harry’s arms with a shudder. “Thank you,” He whispers. 

Harry merely shrugs and grabs the silver nail polish off Draco’s dresser. “Give me your hands,” He murmurs. With furrowed eyebrows, Draco does as he’s told and watches as Harry vanishes the rest of the paint on his nails before unscrewing the polish bottle and begins repainting his nails. The blond watches as if in a trance and Harry grins when he notices. “There, all done,” 

Draco admires Harry’s work quickly. “Not too bad,” He says but his words hold no bite. 

Harry rolls his eyes gently with a light laugh. “I like you with it on,” He says eventually and Draco fights to keep a blush from his cheeks. 

“Do you?” He asks softly, staring down at his lap. 

“Yeah,” Harry admits. “Can I make a request for next time?” 

“Sure, Potter,” Draco says with the slightest grin. 

“Green,” He says instantly. 

“What? To match your eyes?” Draco replies sarcastically and Harry shrugs with a wink. 

“Possibly,” He smirks and Draco rolls his eyes. 

“Fine,” He says eventually. “But you’ve got to paint them for me,”


	23. Flustered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco wears a pair of tight jeans that leave little to the imagination and constantly has Harry flustered during lectures.

Draco hadn’t even been trying. He had simply been walking down the Great Hall with Parkinson, laughing at what the dark haired girl had told him, twirling his hair around a slim finger, strutting around in a pair of tight jeans that left little to the imagination and Harry couldn’t stop staring. 

He shakes himself out, ignoring the stir in his jeans and casts his eyes downward as he heads to his next class. “Alright, Harry?” Ron asks with furrowed eyebrows and Harry nods stiffly. 

“Spectacular,” Harry murmurs into his Charms textbook, not looking up. It was the second week into their eighth year and Draco had already left Potter hot and bothered more times than he could count. Merlin help him, he wasn’t sure how he would make it through the year without wanking himself raw.

The door to Flitwick’s class squeals and when Harry finally jerks his gaze upward, he finds Draco walking in, scanning the crowd of desks to find one emptied. He finally takes a seat beside Harry and throws his books onto his desk with little grace before plopping down in the chair. Harry watches Draco pull his hair into a sloppy bun, the blond strands just passing his strong jawline and tries not to stare too long. “Problem, Potter?” Draco asks gruffly once Harry hadn’t averted his eyes and Potter merely blushes. 

“Er, no,” He mutters.

Draco rolls his eyes but has to fight off a smile. He takes out a bit of parchment and begins scribbling Flitwick’s notes in his pristine broken cursive and Harry can’t help but observe the boy. He has his bottom lip between his teeth, lost in the lecture and bits of hair had fallen out of his bun, resting just above his eyes. 

This continues for days. Draco lives his best life and Harry observes from the sidelines, hiding his erection behind his robes, feeling like a dissatisfied prepubescent Hufflepuff. It’s when the rumour of a party is announced around the eighth year common room that Harry realizes now was the time to take his chance. He finds Malfoy chatting with Parkinson in the farthest corner of the room, hair pulled back into a low ponytail and eyes burning with an emotion Harry couldn’t quite place. “Malfoy,” He calls gently. 

“Potter,” Draco replies, the name hot and heavy in his mouth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I’d like to speak with you,” Harry says softly to which Draco’s light eyebrows rise, intrigued. He’d never heard Potter speak so gentle before.

“Is that so?” He grins, amused and watches as Potter nods. Eventually he sighs and jerks his chin to the stairwell leading to the dorms and Harry follows after him, hating how bloody confident he looks even when he’s not the one with the plan in mind. “So what is it?” Draco asks once assured they were finally alone. 

This was when Potter’s mouth goes dry and he suddenly loses all his nerve. What exactly had he pulled Malfoy aside for? He gives Draco another once over before getting his wits about him and heaving a long sigh. “I just wanted to offer up a suggestion,” He murmurs under his breath. 

Draco lets off a chuckle, confused. “Which is?” 

“That you’d change out of those bloody jeans,” Harry says gruffly. “Because your arse has been all I can think about and I don’t know how much longer I can control myself,” He growls and Draco goes bright red. 

All cockiness had left Draco’s frame and he merely stands in front of Potter, shell shocked and jaw nearing the floor. “What?” He whispers. 

Harry nears closer, mouth at the shell of Draco’s ear as he says, “I think you heard me the first time, Malfoy,” His voice is even more rugged than it had started off and a shiver runs down Draco’s spine. “So I’d appreciate it if you quit giving me hard ons in the middle of lectures unless you’re planning on doing something about it,” Harry kisses the underside of Draco’s jaw with a grin before turning and leaving the Malfoy behind. 

Not long after Harry’s departure, Draco realized he wouldn’t ditch these jeans, Potter be damned. If Harry wanted a piece of that ass, he’d have to work a bit harder than that.


	24. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry is a barista who writes crude names on Draco's coffee cups.

“Don’t speak to me until you’ve got my coffee in front of me, Potter,” That was the first thing Draco had told Harry the moment he had stepped into his coffee shop, bruises beneath his eyes and lips tugged into a frown. Harry zips his lips and throws out the key and swears the deep frown lessens on Draco’s hostile features. He holds up a carton of 2% milk and taps it with his index finger silently with raised eyebrows and Draco nods. “Extra cream, please,”

For some reason, this surprises Harry but he does as Draco had asked, watching the coffee go from black to a handsome chestnut before flicking his wand at a stir stick, giving it a hearty mix, writing his name on the side of the cup and handing it off to him. Just to spite Draco, he dramatically unzips his lips and heaves a long sigh. “Thank god,” He says. “The silence was killing me,”

Draco rolls his eyes but the upturn of his lips was obvious now. “You’re an idiot,” He says with a light chuckle after taking a few sips of his coffee. “But also not the worst barista I’ve come across,”

Harry laughs at the backhanded compliment and goes to clean up the counter, shaking his head, glad for Malfoy’s company. He hadn’t seen the man in months and was happy to come in contact with him again. “So tell me what’s new, Draco,” Harry says, propping his chin in his palm. “Feel free to exercise your demons,”

Draco snorts, grin never leaving his mouth as he plays with his coffee cup. “There’s not much about me you don’t already know,” He says, somewhat bitter and Harry simply shrugs.

“I’m interested to see if the Prophet is as wonky as it used to be. So spill,”

Draco checks his watch before standing and shaking his head. “I actually have to get going,” He frowns. “Maybe another time, Potter,” He says and makes a move for the door. Hand pressed to the handle, he finally makes out what Harry had written on his cup. “Grumpy pants” was written in his signature chicken scratch and Draco rolls his eyes but says nothing, leaving with the slightest grin.

***

Draco had half a mind to ask Pansy to join him at Potter’s coffee place but goes against it, finding his time with Harry to be rather intimate. He had come back to the shop a few times and left with a smile and another obscene name written on the sleeve of his coffee cup. So far, Grumpy pants, Prat and Git were his favorites. Today, however, Potter decided to get a bit more creative.

A handsome prince. Owl me later. I got off at 6.

Draco eyes the cup with disbelief as he walks back out into the summer sun. If he hadn’t recognized Harry’s sloppy handwriting he would’ve been convinced it hadn’t been him. But it was. He is grinning to himself when he gets back to his flat, a faint blush on his cheeks and wonders where Potter got his nerve from. Gryffindor bravery, probably.

He pulls the sleeve off of the coffee cup and twirls it between his fingers with furrowed eyebrows. What was Potter playing at? Once at home, Draco throws the sleeve onto his dresser where the rest of them lie holding the faintest smile and lays back on his bed. Stupid Potter with his scar and his coffee cups.

Hours pass and with time comes the end of Potter’s shift. Draco twirls a quill between nimble fingers, biting his lip anxiously before telling himself to get a bloody grip and write the sodding letter. 

Swatting away the lasting tendrils of self doubt, Draco finally presses quill to paper and sends off the letter.

It seems that you shift had ended. How about you head over to mine and I can show you how charming I can be.

-Your handsome prince

Draco lets off a shaky breath as his owl leaves, a dark speck in the coloured sky. He wasn’t sure how Potter would respond to this. What was it the two were doing? It felt like he was dancing to a song he’d never heard before; something fast and loud, vibrating in his chest and leaving him breathless.

Before he could overthink any longer, there’s a knock at his door. Eyes wide, Draco stands and heads to the front door only to find Potter standing on his doormat still in his work clothes. “You couldn’t be bothered to change?” Draco asks with a grin and Harry shrugs, running a hand through his wild hair. It was much messier than usual; Apparating must’ve been the cause behind it. Draco has to fight off a smile at the thought of it.

“Nope,” He chuckles and Draco rolls his eyes, taking Harry’s hand and leading him into the house.

“Welcome to my castle,” Draco snorts. “Would you like a tour? I’ll save the bedroom for last,” He winks and Harry turns the slightest shade of pink.

“I’d feel cheated otherwise, your majesty,” Harry says, grinning cheekily. Draco laughs before turning and dragging Harry with him around the house. When they get to his room, Draco slowly nudges it open and brings Potter inside. “You kept these,” He points out upon eyeing the coffee sleeves.

“Yeah,” Draco mumbles, wearing a blush similar to Harry’s. “I found them... endearing,”

Harry grins and pecks Draco on the lips, surprising them both. “I had to win you over somehow, didn’t I?” He says and Draco rolls his eyes with a grin.

“With snarky nicknames? Possibly,” He kisses Harry again, this time longer and more passionate.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Harry murmurs against his mouth an Draco nods softly.

“Maybe,” He says, shrugging. “I don’t know what this is but... does it mean I can get my coffee for free?” Draco asks eventually and Harry’s snorts, chest rumbling with oncoming laughter. 

“I dunno about that,” He says and Draco pouts. 

“What if I pay you in kisses?” Draco asks, looking down at Harry hopefully. 

Harry grins devilishly. “Well, if you put it that way...” 

Draco kisses up Harry’s jaw, delighted. “All the coffee I’d ever want,” He murmurs against Harry’s stubble. 

Harry chuckles, the action throaty and rough as Draco leaves marks on his neck and exposed collarbones. “Maybe if you’re good,” He says and Draco rolls his eyes. 

“When am I not, Potter?” He asks teasingly and Harry snorts when Draco pulls away from the tempting expanse of his skin.

“That’s definitely up for debate,” Harry replies and Draco laughs, laying back in his bed and waiting for Harry to follow. Once he does, Draco begins carding his fingers through Harry’s disheveled hair. 

“What made you want to be a barista?” He asks eventually and Harry shrugs. 

“I was hoping a cute bloke would come in that I could win over,” Harry replies sarcastically, a playful grin painting his handsome features. 

“Right,” Draco laughs. 

Harry goes to kiss Draco again and says, “Looks like I got exactly what I was hoping for,” 

Draco blushes a pale pink and hums under his breath. “Yeah?” He asks eventually. 

“Yeah,” Harry replies, tracing patterns on the inside of Draco’s wrists, looking content simply laying on Malfoy’s California king and Draco realizes then that he wanted nothing more than coffee and kisses from Harry Potter.


	25. Mourn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco is mourning over the death of his mother and Harry is there to comfort him.

Draco didn’t cry when she died, or at the funeral, or at the reception. It wasn’t until a week later when he went into the pantry and saw row upon row of canned vegetables, fruits and jams she had prepared for the long winter ahead. The shelves were filled with sliced peaches, pears and cherry tomatoes along with non perishable food items like rice and oatmeal. Draco stands in the middle of the cramped pantry with a hand clasped over his mouth to stop the pathetic sobs from escaping as tears stream down his cheeks in hot streaks. 

It had been a week and a half since cancer had finally caused Narcissa Malfoy to bite the bullet and now Draco couldn’t help but feel completely, utterly alone. He grabs a jar of canned pears, shifting it between his hands with a whimper, the soft groan of the wooden door going unheard when Harry makes his way inside. 

“Draco,” He murmurs gently, resting a tentative hand on the blond’s waist. 

“Harry,” Draco replies through a sniffle. “I miss her so much,” The tears came faster at the confession and Harry frowns, wanting nothing more than to will all of his pain away. “Now I... I have no one,” He whispers to his shoes, eyes cast downward. 

“That’s not true at all,” Harry tells him gently. “You have Pansy, Astoria, Blaise... Me,” He presses a kiss to the boy’s neck in hopes of calming him. 

Draco turns to face him a with a half smile but loses his footing in the crowded pantry and drops the jar of preserves, flinching at the harsh crack of the glass. Pear juice now painted the toes of his shoes and he swears lowly but before he could say much else, Harry cuts in. “I’ll clean it,” He says. “Just go lay on the couch. I’ll be right there,” 

Draco nods guiltily with a watery smile and leaves the pantry as Harry takes out his wand to clean the mess. When he leaves to go find Draco, he finds the boy sitting on the couch holding a battered copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. “Mum used to read me these when I was little,” He whispers once Harry had sat beside him on the couch, wiping away his tears. 

“Do you want me to read to you?” Harry asks softly. Draco nods shyly and presses the book into Potter’s outstretched hands. He then rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and Harry begins reading. “There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time the brothers reached a river too treacherous to pass, but being taught in the magical arts, the three brothers simply waved their wands and made a bridge...” Harry continues reading and with time, Draco’s eyes had began to droop. 

Before Potter had even finished the story, Draco was asleep, peaceful and snoring. With a fond grin Harry shuts the book, kisses the top of Draco’s head and puts him to bed, hoping tomorrow be a better day.


	26. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry gets stood up by his date and Draco is there to take his place.

With a shaky exhale and a roll of his shoulders, Draco was off. He had been observing Potter for the last ten minutes from his own little crook of the restaurant, watched him check his phone repeatedly, run a hand through his ghastly hair, and shake his head with a mix of irritation and hurt. Draco had managed to piece two and two together so now it was time for Malfoy to save him.

“Don’t look so surprised to see me,” Draco drawls upon sitting down. Harry’s eyebrows furrow with confusion and Draco mutters, “Just play along. I saw paps around the corner. Doubtful you want the whole bloody world finding out your date stood you up,”

Harry’s eyes widen for a moment before he offers the smallest nod and Draco is unfazed when Harry bends to give Malfoy a small peck on the lips. There is a small click of a camera and both boys freeze before looking out the window to find a man holding up a large, expensive camera and Harry lets off a sigh. Draco had been right.

A waitress arrives before either of them can comment on it. “What can I get you two today?” She asks, gawking ever so slightly at Harry which causes the boy to squirm and pull at his collar with discomfort. He always hated that.

“I’ll have the cheese ravioli, tortellini with broccoli and a bottle of red wine,” Draco says, shutting the menu he hadn’t even bothered to look at.

The waitress giggles slightly, not looking up from her notepad. “Someone’s hungry,” She comments and Draco’s eyes narrow, mimicking the woman’s airy laugh.

“With an extra fucking wine glass and fork,” He hisses sharply. The woman’s gaze jerks upward with surprise and Draco motions to Potter with a scowl. “For him, unless you’ve forgotten,” He continues with a bitter smile and the waitress, looking slightly stunned, nods. “What a fucking—“ Draco begins once the woman had walked off but Potter cuts him off with a wide grin and vicious laughter.

“My god, Draco,” Harry says through laughs, tears collecting in his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,”

“Maybe,” Draco says with the slightest smile. “Anyway,” He murmurs once the boy’s giggles had died down. “Who was this person you were supposed to see?” 

A frown takes over his once splitting smile. “Some guy I met online,” He says quietly, shrugging with nonchalance that didn’t quite fit.

“Online where?” Draco asks with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me it was Tinder,” He jokes with a taunting grin and Harry scoffs.

“Don’t be a prick,” Harry laughs. “It was a… site for celebrities,” He mutters finally and Draco can’t help but burst into laughter.

“You’re joking!” He chuckles with bright eyes and Harry shakes his head with another grin.

“I’m not,” Harry says, blushing slightly. “You must know the one. With the… wait list,”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Draco snorts. “You see, some of us don’t have the… reputation you uphold,” He says with a teasing smile and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” He says with an equally joking smile. “It’s not like you’re exactly flying under the radar,” Harry comments, shrugging and his words ring true. Draco’s popular perfume line has caused him to pull in a large sum of money and to be broadcast all across the world.

“Oh posh,” Draco shrugs, humble. “Even so, I rather miss the quiet,” He admits. “I’ve had paparazzi follow me home. I can’t even imagine what you go through,” The waitress arrives with their dishes, placing them at random and Draco shoots daggers at her back once she turns. “Anyway,” He continues as he picks up his fork. “Last time I checked dates aren’t spent talking about the cons of our high statuses,”

Harry nods, blushing slightly at his words when it hits him that shit, he was on a date with Draco Malfoy. He watches the boy place the expensive napkin to his lap, picking up his fork and begins eating with the grace of a god. He pauses to take sips of red wine every few moments and, finally breaking out of his trance, Harry digs in as well. “This is good,” He murmurs into his ravioli, grinning.

“Yeah this place is great,” Draco smiles and it hits Harry then exactly how handsome he is. Sharp cheekbones, eyes a deep pool of mercury and teeth so white they nearly glittered under the fluorescent lights.

“You’ve been before?” Harry asks and Draco nods.

“Pansy and I come in once every two weeks to catch up,”

Harry hums lightly under his breath and wipes his mouth. “Thank you for… this,” He murmurs finally and Draco merely offers a small shrug.

“Not a problem, Potter,” Draco says casually. He runs a hand through his hair and only then does Harry notice it was no longer polished and perfect, as it had been when Harry had first met him but rather a shaggy mess, half styled into a sloppy quiff. It… fit him, he realizes.

“I… like your hair,” He mumbles, blushing into his food.

Draco snorts with a blinding grin. “Thanks, Potter. Your opinion means the world to me,”

Harry forces his eyes upward and smacks Draco’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck you, Malfoy,” He laughs.

“Is that a suggestion?” Draco asks with a sly smile and that’s when it hits Harry that holy mother of God, he and Draco were flirting.

For a moment, Harry freezes. “I dunno,” He murmurs, voice low and rugged. “Is it?”

Draco’s grin only widens. “Might be,” He replies, eyes holding a glint Harry couldn’t quite place. “Are you busy later?” All Harry could manage was a shake of his head and Draco chuckles, completely at ease. “Good. Maybe after this we could head over to your flat,”

“Alright,” Harry is jittery through the rest of their meal and the two of them leave the restaurant with a hefty tip the waitress didn’t quite deserve, eager to go. Harry pulls Draco into his flat, hands slightly clammy and as they stumble up to his bedroom, he’s not sure what he’s got himself into.

But when Draco leaves Harry’s flat the next morning and the reporters catch him with mussed up hair and red, kiss swollen lips, Harry realizes that that was worth having broadcast on every magazine in sight. Now everyone knew what was his and he didn’t mind one bit.


	27. Smoke and Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry smokes cigarettes and Draco finds it incredibly attractive, unsure whether or not he can keep his hands to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been MIA for a while! I've been in treatment for my eating disorder and haven't fallen off the face of the earth just yet! Much love and enjoy x

Harry wasn’t sure how he ended up here yet he couldn’t find it in himself to leave. He stood at the patio of the Parkinson residence, both Pansy and Hermione’s laughter dominating the music played overhead and takes another long drag off his cigarette.

The sun had set hours before and Harry fights against the cold, the glow of the dwindling tobacco the only light through the pitch black. He pulls his jacket up to his face, a worn, soft brown leather and grits his teeth that chattered harshly. He had left his wand inside, something he otherwise wouldn’t have done had it not have been to escape another round of strong fingers of Firewhiskey. His head was swimming, a pleasant buzz, insides warm with liquor. He had a feeling he’d be headed home early if he continued knocking back drinks so he opted for a cigarette instead. 

A crack like a stiff whip fills the air and Harry’s attention is instantly brought to it, eyes in desperate search of the culprit. A mop of white-blond hair seemed to light up the darkness and Draco Malfoy eyes Harry with surprise. “Fancy seeing you here, Potter,” He greets with the smallest smile. Not a sneer, something surprisingly genuine. 

“Er…” Harry begins awkwardly. “Likewise,” He takes another drag off his cigarette and looks Malfoy over. It had been just over a year since he had last seen Draco and Harry could already make out subtle differences in Malfoy’s physique despite his bulky jacket, a heavy army green with patches ironed into the sleeves. It was something Harry knew the blond would never have been caught dead in a year ago. Harry couldn’t help but smile. “It’s nice to see you,” He continues through a mouthful of smoke. 

“You too,” Draco says with equal softness. He runs a hand through his hair, pale fingers disappearing into his blond locks. “How is she?” He asks, jerking a pointed chin to the patio door. “Firecalls aren’t the same as face-to-face,” 

“Pansy’s great,” Harry promises. “Hermione makes her really happy,” He admits and watches Draco’s smile bloom wider. 

“Good,” Draco sighs. “I hadn’t been able to come back to London until early yesterday morning. Dealing with the Ministry paperwork was… time consuming so I didn’t have a moment to check in,” Draco’s voice seemed different from the last time he and Harry had spoken. It was less posh and breathy. Sharper now, certain syllables pronounced and others hushed. 

“You were in America for a while, yeah? How was it?” Harry asks, flicking ash off the tail of his fag, watching Draco shrug. 

“Chicago was busy,” Draco says with a gentle laugh. “I finished my community service last week. It was nice to just relax,” He takes in Potter’s quivering frame and casts a wandless warming charm around him. Harry’s eyes widen slightly with surprise and Draco shrugs humbly. “Americans may be thick but I met a few powerful witches and wizards,” He holds a small smile, eyes glazed over as if reliving a memory and Harry doesn’t dare disturb him. “It’s nice to be back though,” He admits, finally meeting Harry’s eyes again. 

“Do you want to go in?” Harry asks, stubbing out his cigarette. He watches Draco nod stiffly before moving around him and heads inside. 

When Pansy sees Draco standing at the threshold, her face brightens and she pulls him into her arms, getting lost in his chest from Malfoy’s impressive height. Draco takes in a deep breath, hints of Pansy’s crisp perfume welcoming him as he says, “Missed you, petal,” 

“Missed you too,” Pansy whispers wetly as she blinks away tears. 

Draco rolls his eyes playfully as he pulls out of Pansy’s arms. “Don’t get weepy on me, dear,” He murmurs with a teasing grin. Pansy smacks the blond’s arm with a halfhearted glare and edges him toward the couch where Hermione sat nursing a few fingers of whiskey, eyes glazed over and face flushed a warm pink. Draco shrugs off his jacket and when Pansy calls for her house elf to take Malfoy’s coat, Draco merely shakes his head and insists on putting it away on his own. “Americans don’t believe in using house elves to do things they’re perfectly capable of,” Draco explains as he hangs his jacket. “They find it cruel and I’ve got to agree,” He admits and takes in Hermione’s expression, looking both smug and impressed with Malfoy’s development over the past year. 

Draco then takes a spare whiskey glass from the coffee table, the crystal smooth and heavy in his hands. He fills the tumbler with two fingers of whiskey and settles down beside Pansy, taking a hearty sip as he eyes Harry from across the room. Potter still stood at the patio entrance, door cracked slightly and allowing the winter’s brutal cold to seep into the room. Without so much as lifting his lips from his glass, Draco flicks a wrist at the door, wielding it shut. Harry can’t help but scowl, clearly jealous and Draco has to hide his grin behind his glass. 

“Sit down, Harry,” Hermione murmurs, tapping sun darkened fingers against her dense tumbler. Harry eyes Draco warily before stumbling over to Pansy’s open recliner and shrugs off his jacket. He doesn’t move to put it away, nor does he bother calling a house elf to take are of it. Just keeps it draped over the chair which causes Draco to roll his eyes. Of course Potter was nothing but messy. 

The night drags on quickly and when Harry offers Draco out to smoke, although shocked it’s something Draco couldn’t refuse. “What did you want?” The blond asks from over his shoulder as he grabs his coat. When he turns to face Harry again, he watches the man shrug.

“Could use some company,” He replies, smirking lamely which has Draco rolling his eyes again. 

“Alright,” The blond murmurs, watching Potter bulk up his collar and prompt him out the door. “What started the nasty habit?” He asks, watching the bright orange tail of Harry’s cigarette against the pale silver moonlight. 

“Ginny was always traveling for Quidditch matches and I was always left at home. Funny the sort of habits you pick up when you’re lonely,” Harry’s tone edges on bitter and he takes a long drag off his fag, strong facial features illuminated by orange embers. 

Draco hums softly as he casts a warming charm around them, rubbing his hands together and hoping to dissolve the pink hue from the chill. “I understand,” He says and Draco’s reply seemed to shock Harry. He was so sociable, it seemed odd to imagine him lonely. “You’re not together anymore or…” Malfoy trails off with a light frown. 

“We split up last month,” Harry admits and Draco’s frown deepens. ‘Split up’ seemed so… final. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Draco says, kicking at the cement below his feet. He watches Harry shrug, shoulders stiff, the action nearly painful. “Is there… anything I can do?” His voice comes out a whisper, seeming to float away with the ghost of his breath and watches as Harry shrugs again. 

“Don’t think so,” He admits, frowning. Silence laps over them for a few beats, the only sound the hollow flick of Potter’s cigarette as he expertly rids the ash. “Is Chicago different from London?” Harry asks after a hearty inhale. 

“The weather’s about the same,” Draco begins. “Summers are sticky and winters are brutal so it wasn’t something I had to get used to,” Harry thought about asking what Draco had done for community service in America but Malfoy continues on. “I had a small little flat to myself. I really isolated myself the first few months. Did my work and went home; but then I met Mina and Jeremy, my neighbors. Cute couple, really. Strongest witch and wizard I ever met,” Harry, although keen to disagree, kept his mouth shut. “They knew about my past and it didn’t seem to bother them much. Thank god,” 

Harry watches Draco sigh heavily as if still somewhat concerned they would change their mind about him and takes this as his cue to speak up. “I’m glad you met a few good people,” He murmurs. “Relieved you didn’t forget about us, though,” 

“Although you weren’t on my list of favorites, how could I ever forget the famous Harry Potter?” Draco asks with a teasing grin and Harry rolls his eyes, cheeks holding the lightest blush. 

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” He mumbles and watches as something Harry couldn’t quite place flickers in Draco’s eyes. 

“Is that a suggestion?” The blond asks, voice low and rugged and Harry suddenly goes very still, eyes wide and blood rushing straight to his cock. Lust. That was what Draco’s gaze held. 

“Might be,” He replies, voice just as low, words falling from his lips with wisps of smoke. “Depends on whether or not you have anything going on after this,” 

Draco’s eyes flick down to Potter’s lips, still expertly wrapped around that bloody cigarette and fights hard to keep from nearing closer, wanting to allow his hands to wander to the boy’s face, sculpted chest, hips, groin. Fuck, there was so much Draco wanted to do to him. 

“I may be a bad boy but I’m no longer a convicted felon. I’ve got all the time in the world, Potter,” Against his freewill, Draco nears closer to whisper the reply in Potter’s ear, going so far as to nibble on his earlobe and hears the lightest moan leave Potter’s mouth. 

Harry drops his half-finished cigarette, grabs onto Draco’s bicep and Apparates them back to Grimmauld without another word.


	28. Sketch*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco convinces Harry to let him sketch him while Potter gets himself off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit! Mentions of masturbation and oral sex. Read with caution and otherwise enjoy x

Draco had made the mistake of leaving his sketchbook out in the living room and… Harry hadn’t meant to snoop, he promises. He had found it laying open on the couch and couldn’t help but see what Draco had drawn. Cocks. Cocks fucking everywhere. Each page was littered with them and the closer Harry looked, the more he realized that each and every one of them was his.

Blushing profusely, Harry shuts the sketchbook but not before Draco re-enters the room. His eyes glaze over with panic and they flit down to the sketchbook in Harry’s lap. “What are you doing with that?” He hisses, eyes narrowed. Harry squirms on the couch, clearly uncomfortable and fights to come up with the response.

“I didn’t mean to find it. You left it out in the open so it’s not really my fault,” Harry stammers, eyes wide and blush deepening. 

“You could’ve closed it back up. But instead you went snooping through my things.” Draco says, arms crossed over his chest. Irritation was written all over his face and Harry’s guilt worsens.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes, hoping to backpedal. “I just wasn’t expecting what was inside. I think I can recognize my cock when I see it.”

It was Draco‘s turn to flush now but he tries keeping embarrassment from his face. A touch of arousal runs down his spine and he shifts from foot to foot. “And?” He manages, voice cracking near the end. “Does that bother you at all?” 

“My boyfriend draws my cock and I’m supposed be upset about it? I’m anything but bothered Draco,” Harry promises, voice deep and rugged. 

Draco just about melted into the floor. “Well…” He begins with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous smile. “How about you tell me how you feel instead,”

Harry’s eyes darken into a burning emerald, looking over the curves and contours of Draco‘s body. “I think you’re very dirty boy Draco,” he begins, smirking. “The thought of you sitting alone in your room aching hard as you draw my fat cock in the sketchbook of yours,” He grins filthily and Draco knows he’s done for. “It makes me feel like doing very naughty things to you,”

Draco sucks in a harsh breath and nears closer to Harry, grabbing the sketchbook from his lap, fingers brushing lightly over the obvious bulge in his trousers. “Yeah?” He murmurs. “What exactly would you like to do to me, Potter?”

Harry lets off a groan and rests his hand on Draco’s inner thigh, touch rough and Draco knew bruises would form by morning. “I would take your right here on this couch with the curtains open where anyone could see you laid out moaning my name while I fuck you,” Harry says, voice even and Draco squirms where he sat. 

“Harry,” Draco whimpers, biting his lip harshly. “Please,”

Harry raises an eyebrow, teasing. “What is it, Draco? Tell me what you want.”

Draco thinks this over for a moment. His eyes then land on the sketchbook and he fights back a grin. “I want to draw you touching yourself.” Harry’s eyes widen at this. This wasn’t what he had expected. He nears closer to Draco on the couch and watches this boy pick up the sketchbook and pencil. “Well get to it, Potter,” Draco orders.

Harry quickly does as he’s told, pulling down his jeans and his boxers to the ankles. Draco watches with undivided attention, eyes gliding down Harry’s body with each move of his hands. His cock was half hard, pink with a glistening tip. “What now?” Harry whispers, breathless. Draco merely shrugs, looking almost careless as he rearranges the sketchbook in his lap.

“I’m sure you know how to get yourself off, Potter,” Draco says, almost bitterly. “So put those hands to good use,” Harry hesitates for a moment but eventually moves his hands down to his cock. Draco watches as he curves his fist around the thickness of his length and begins his sketch. He watches Harry closely, carefully sketching each and every intricate detail. He watches the way Harry’s mouth forms a small o as he edges closer to his orgasm. Potter had begun quickening his place, breathing ruggedly and Draco found himself squirming from his place on the couch as he watched.

“Draco,” Harry warns breathlessly. “I’m going to come,”

“I’m not done yet,” Draco grunts, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between his teeth. “You’re only allowed to come once I’m finished.” Harry lets off a low whine but Draco doesn’t waver. Begging wouldn’t get Harry anywhere tonight. “Don’t slow down,” Draco orders upon noticing it, eyes raised from his sketch.

Harry watches the boy shade and drag the pencil across the page and his orgasm nears closer and closer with each stroke of his cock. Draco seemed to be teasing him on purpose, erasing bits only to draw them over again and running his thumb over certain parts to lessen the harshness but when he finally finishes, putting his pencil to the side, he’s grinning at Harry who’s writhing and squirming from his spot on the couch, eyes shut tight with sweat gleaming against the furrow of his eyebrows. “Are you ready to come, Harry?” Draco asks, teasing.

Harry nods his head, eager. “Yes yes yes,” He chants, breathing labored and Draco merely chuckles.

“Alright,” Draco murmurs, grinning. “You’ve been so good for me so go ahead and come,” He watches Harry unfold before his eyes, jaw going slack as ribbons of cum paint his stomach and he moans so loud there’s no denying the neighbors could hear from next door.

When Harry opens his eyes, they’re half hooded with bliss. They flit down to Draco’s cock which tented his own pants and before he could offer to help him out, Draco is throwing the sketchbook aside and is crawling into Harry’s lap. He licks Potter’s cum from his chest and Harry watches as he laps it up with thick strokes of his tongue, leaving his abdomen warm with saliva but he doesn’t mind as he scoops Draco’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to those filthy lips. Draco slips his tongue into Harry’s mouth and the dark haired boy is able to taste himself on Draco’s tongue. He growls lightly and pulls away from Draco, grinning lightly. “Let me suck you off,” He says and Draco shrugs, looking careless as he shimmies out of his jeans.

With Harry’s sinful mouth wrapped around him, Draco is torn between looking at Harry and the sketch sitting on the coffee table. In the end, Draco comes with his hand in Potter’s hair, guiding his cock deep into Harry’s mouth and surveys the boy as his orgasm washes over him, knowing the real thing would always be better than any sketch he could ever come up with and he was completely okay with that.


	29. Crushcrushcrush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco only realizes his crush on Harry only when Potter's life is in his hands. 
> 
> Healer!Draco Auror!Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a hot minute since I last updated. You can catch more of my one shots on Tumblr since I'm on here more often. My url is lovelylanden if you want to give me a follow (-: 
> 
> Okay, I'm done plugging myself. On with the fic. Much love and enjoy x

It was hard to put a name to it at first. A crush. What a silly word, yet that was undeniably what Draco had for Harry. The two had gotten uncharacteristically close these past few months and well… how couldn’t he catch feelings for the boy wonder?

He had first realized his crush on Potter when he had his hand pressed firmly against the deep gash in Harry’s neck, blood soaked to his elbows. Despite all the pain, Harry still managed a half smile. Maybe it was the adrenaline but Draco couldn’t help the flutter of his heart as he took him all in.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Draco murmurs as he repositions himself on Potter’s hospital bed, straddling him, and meant it. Malfoy knew what he was doing and was confident that whatever this was, it was something he would somehow manage to fix.

With his free hand, Draco casts his Patronus for help and fights to keep the tremor from his palms. An artery in Potter’s neck had just corroded; he didn’t have the wiggle room for unsteady hands.

“I trust you,” Harry whispers and Draco sighs, heart hammering in his chest.

“Of course you do. I’m the best of the best. Now shut up, idiot. It’s not a good idea for you to talk right now,” Harry chuckles and Draco’s eyes widen when he feels the warmth of more blood gush between his fingers. “What the fuck is taking them so long?” The blond mutters under his breath, too soft for Harry to hear. Normally it wouldn’t take this long for help to arrive.

Moments later, Pansy and Hermione step into the room in matching pairs of Healer robes. “What’s his case?” Pansy asks, assessing Potter from her stance at the edge of the bed.

“He got hit by some sort of curse that keeps this wound from closing. The gash just corroded,”

“They haven’t figured out the counter curse?” Hermione asks, pale with worry and Draco shakes his head, hands trembling slightly as they continued to apply pressure to Potter’s wound.

“How long has it been like this?” Pansy asks softly and Draco shoots her a glare. 

“Ten minutes. We might have been able to get it under control sooner if you two wouldn’t have taken your bloody time,” Draco hisses. “Now help me.“

Harry groans, a deep gurgle in the back of his throat, eyes watering with pain and more blood leaks between Draco’s pale fingers. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco murmurs softly, carefully repositioning his hands so Pansy can gently pack the wound with gauze. Draco wouldn’t dare admit it but he was terrified. He constantly told Potter becoming an Auror was risky business and the boy had never listened, insisting each time he came to St. Mungos his injuries were “just scratches”. He couldn’t exactly say that now.

“I’m going to remove my hands,” Draco begins, tone orderly and precise. “When I do, one of you needs to cast a stasis charm on the wound. It should keep it stable for now until we find a solution for all of this,”

All three of them seem to hold their breath for a few moments as soon as Draco removes his hands and Hermione casts the charm perfectly, stopping the bleeding. They all let off a simultaneous sigh of relief and Draco slumps down in a nearby chair with a groan. Seemingly all his muscles ached from staying in such a demanding position; thighs burning from the crouch, fingers and forearms stiff and he tries working the kinks out of his wrists as Hermione and Pansy calculate their next move.

Malfoy was caked in blood and he shudders with disgust as red crescent moons begin forming underneath his fingernails. “I’m going to clean up,” Draco murmurs, casting a final look at Potter and finds the stasis charm still intact, a subtle lavender bubble lining the expanse of his throat.

Hermione and Pansy merely give him a nod before he stumbles out back to the Healer locker room. He rinses the blood from his arctic skin yet still feels the slick oily residue no matter how hard he scrubs. His hands shook full force now, from fear and adrenaline or anxiety he wasn’t sure. “You better pull through this, Potter,” Draco whispers as he dries his hands, sighing.

The door to the locker room opens and a flash of Pansy’s jet black hair announces her arrival. “You alright?” She asks gently and Draco shrugs.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He counters and balls his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

“Because that was… intense,” Pansy murmurs and Draco shrugs again.

“Just another day at work,” He replies, playing it off and Pansy scowls, seeing right through it.

“I know you care about him,”

Draco sends her a nasty glare as he pries the dried blood from underneath his nails. “So what?”

Pansy rolls her eyes and throws him a clean set of robes. “So you’re allowed to be a bit frazzled,”

Draco sighs and strips from his bloodied robes and into the fresh ones. “I’ll be fine,” He says through muffled fabric.

Pansy rolls her eyes again, an action Draco didn’t catch and presses a few Galleons into his palm. “Go get yourself a butter beer. Take a long lunch,” She insists. “We’ve got this covered,”

Draco has half a mind to counter that statement with a snarky remark but goes against it, nodding and grabs his jacket from his locker. He bulks up the collar with a final grin at his friend and leaves the hospital, Apparating to the Three Broomsticks for the butter beer Pansy had insisted on, Galleons still pressed firmly into his palm.

***

Draco had just stepped back out into the cold when his pager goes off. When he looks down at it, his eyes widen. An emergency for Harry’s hospital room.

With a racing heart, Draco Apparates to St. Mungos and sprints to Harry’s room with wild eyes. His coattails trailed behind him, unable to keep up with his impressive speed and when he finally makes it to Harry’s room, he finds Potter to be… completely fine. “I got a page for 911,” Draco hisses, yet is flooded with relief.

“I needed to see you,” Harry whispers, stasis charm still fully intact.

“You couldn’t have just waited for me to get back?” Malfoy scowls and lets off a sigh as he settles in the chair closest to Potter’s bed.

“I just wanted to thank you,” The dark haired boy mumbles, blushing slightly. 

“For…?” Draco asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Saving my life,” Harry replies, more confident this time and Draco rolls his eyes playfully. 

“It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Why’re you apologizing now?” He teases with the slightest grin and Harry sends him a halfhearted glare. 

“I’m serious,” He says and reaches his arm out for Draco to take which he does, smiling at the sharp mint of his cologne and butter beer on his breath. 

“As am I,” Draco replies, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze and his heart flutters when Harry squeezes back with equal gentleness. 

“Thank you,” Harry says solemnly, face gone serious and Draco sobers up as well, all traces of playfulness gone. 

“You’re welcome, Potter,” Draco replies. “It’s what friends are for, isn’t it? Saving each other’s lives,” 

His pager goes off, halting Harry from replying and Draco sighs, getting up from the chair and offers him a final smile before leaving the room. 

***

Days melt into weeks and, on his occasional off day, Draco gets a knock at his door right as he’s pulling a tee shirt over his head. He frowns, not having expected visitors and when he spies Potter on his doorstep, neck somehow healed, a deep pink scar the only trace it had ever been there, the blond stops in his tracks. “Harry?” He whispers with disbelief. “How–” 

“Hermione worked her literal magic and found the counter curse,” Harry explains before Draco could question him, holding the slightest grin. “I just got discharged this morning. Sorry I didn’t call, I just had to see you,” 

“Always acting on impulses,” Draco chuckles, the chill of the outside wind causing goosebumps to rise against his skin.

“Expect anything else from me?” Harry replies with a grin and Draco snorts, moving sideways to allow Harry to pass the threshold. 

“Come in,” He murmurs and watches as Harry obeys, shrugging off his coat and toeing off his shoes, dressed in a burnt orange sweater and jeans that fit snug around his hips and thighs. Draco looks away quickly to keep from staring. “How’re you feeling?” He asks softly as the two make it to his living room, sitting knee to knee on his couch. 

“Drained,” Harry says honestly, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “They gave me half the bloody pharmacy in meds to take for the next few weeks,” He continues with a light chuckle and Draco can’t help but smile again. 

“You beat literal death,” Draco replies. “I’m sure you can beat this too,” Harry laughs, nodding and watches Draco get up from the couch and leaves the room for a few short moments before returning with a bottle of Firewhiskey and two heavy glasses. “I think this calls for a celebration,” 

Harry’s smile widens and he takes the glass and bottle from Draco, pouring himself a hearty three fingers and takes a sip, pink scar gleaning under the dim lighting with each swallow. Draco fills his glass as well, gaze never leaving Harry’s as he takes a few healthy swallows before setting his glass down and shifts closer to Potter, heart hammering in his chest. “You really missed me, hmm?” He whispers through the semidarkness and Harry nods, gaze flitting down to Draco’s lips, soft and inviting. 

“Of course,” Harry replies, hands moving to Draco’s hips and the blond stills slightly, somewhat surprised but in no mood to object. 

“Mind showing me how much?” He murmurs, grinning and Harry nods, finally closing the gap between them and cups Draco’s face in his hands. Potter’s lips were warm and inviting and Draco finds himself melting into him with each sweep of the dark haired boy’s tongue. He tasted of Firewhiskey and need and Draco was becoming completely obsessed with it. 

Well… if this is what a crush felt like, Draco didn’t mind at all.


	30. Christmas Cheer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Draco hates Christmas but his boyfriend seems to love it a little too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a millennia since I've updated but I was in eating disorder treatment for a while and am back now (-: Much love x

“I don’t think it’s going to be a white Christmas this year,” Harry says incredulously and Draco raises an eyebrow from across the room, wine glass at his lips. 

Potter watches the boy as he swallows, grinning as he takes in Malfoy’s green and silver Christmas jumper. Mrs. Weasley had knitted it for him the year before and Draco wore it for her sake although he seemed to hate the holiday. “Darn,” Draco says with a roll of his eyes and he sets his glass down, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Although he wouldn’t admit it, it would be odd; having a Christmas that wasn’t bathed in white. He takes in the lights on the Christmas tree with a grimace. They seemed to burn too bright, the tinsel lining the branches seeming to shimmer blindingly. Draco had already snapped the candy canes Harry had spelled to sing Christmas carols in half the first week that Potter had put them up. Draco hadn’t even felt bad about it even after Harry had pouted for hours.  
With a sigh, Draco stands from his spot on the couch and heads to the kitchen. Harry didn’t follow after him and for that he was grateful. His hands had begun to shake and tears had welled in his eyes. Draco didn’t want Harry seeing him like this. 

He hides away in the pantry and through the sliver of light the kitchen gave, he grabs a jar of peach jam. Draco had never made jam alone until after his mother died the year before. It had always been the thing she and Draco had done together and although it made his heart ache painfully, he decided this year to pick up the tradition without her. He did it in her honor, of sorts and as he holds the jar in his trembling hands, his tears fall faster down his cheeks now and he sobs into those green sweater sleeves. 

A few rooms down, Harry begins to wonder where Draco had gone. He had left so abruptly yet Potter knew not to question it. Only now, he couldn’t help himself. Standing up from the couch, he straightens and heads to the kitchen where he had last saw Draco disappear. When he hears sniffling from the pantry, his eyebrows furrow and he slides the door open to find Malfoy trembling with a jar of peach jam in his hands. 

“Draco?” Harry murmurs softly and wraps his arms around the fragile boy, frowning when his sobs increase. 

“I’m sorry,” Draco whimpers through his cries. “I don’t mean to ruin Christmas,” 

Harry’s heart breaks at the apology and he pulls Draco closer into his chest. “You’re not ruining anything, love,” He whispers, kissing the top of Draco’s head. “What’s going on?” Draco didn’t apologize for close to anything so he knew whatever this was was dire. 

Draco stands in Harry’s arms with a trembling lip and wipes his eyes on the fabric of Potter’s sweater silently. Harry says nothing, only continues running his fingers through Draco’s hair in the way he knew his boyfriend loved, waiting for his answer. 

“I keep thinking about my mum,” Draco says eventually and with a slight frown, Harry nods softly. He knew Narcissa’s death had been particularly hard on Draco considering how close they had been but had hoped the cheer of the holidays would help. 

Unfortunately it seemed to be doing the opposite. 

“I’m sorry sweetie,” Harry murmurs. Draco pulls out of Harry’s embrace and through his tears futzes with the jar in his hands. “Jam?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows and Draco nods halfheartedly. 

“Mum and I always made jam together around the holidays and I did it on my own this year,” He whispers almost sheepishly. “Peach was her favorite,” 

Harry smiles fondly and pulls Draco from the dark pantry and back into the kitchen before heading over to the counter, ignoring the Christmas cookies he had made the hour before and grabs two pieces of bread and puts them into the toaster. 

Draco’s eyebrows furrow as he watches him, sitting down at the kitchen table and sliding the glass jar between his hands. What was Potter playing at?  
Once the toast pops, Harry puts them on plates, grabbing a butter knife and walks back over to Draco with another soft smile. He then takes the jar from him and unscrews the lid before applying a generous amount of jam to both pieces. Harry then passes a slice to Draco and clinks the two pieces together with a goofy grin. “To Narcissa,” He says. 

With the smallest smile, Draco cheers his toast and says, “To Narcissa,” 

When the two make it back to the living room, Draco finds himself a bit more tolerable with the Christmas holidays.

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed this concept and I hope you all did too. I got inspiration from a Tumblr post but couldn't find the source anywhere )-:


End file.
